The Royal Serpent
by ghostwriter1341
Summary: The Blackwell family has served as the royal assassin for generations. Alice is one in a long string of skilled killers, and she's only 17. With the reflexes of a viper and wisdom beyond her years, she's the best of the best. And she gets it all done with help from her devilish butler. In exchange for her blood, his service belongs solely to her.
1. Prolouge

_Thump-thump, thump-thump_

"Make it stop, please." A girl with black hair and black eyes whispered in the dark. Her ears picked up that wretched sound, the only sound in her secluded, dark chamber with only a barred window barely large enough for a mouse to slip through.

The girl lay on the cold floor, cold as bones, wrapping her tiny arms around herself. A girl, no more than ten, wished to have never been born. In a flash, her small world was ripped asunder. Parents, dead. Home, destroyed. Everything had been engulfed by wild flames in the dark of the night. Did anyone notice her missing? Was there anyone looking for her? Did they believe her to be dead?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_

Secluded in her bare chamber, the girl became frightened by the sound of her own heart beating. Were her captors trying to make her go crazy? If that was their goal, they succeeded, as if torture, rape, and humiliation weren't enough to satisfy their sick hunger. They stole her away, sealed her inside this chamber for days on end, and when they wanted to use her, they'd come at the hour she would always remember and fear.

Who is this girl you ask? Why none other than Alice Austen Blackwell, heiress to the Blackwell fortune, sole survivor of the Blackwell Manor Massacre. Why was she suffering so? Frankly, there is no logical reason. Some people get bored when they're not being cruel and when they lead normal, respected lives; their minds often turn to the most heinous profanities of the day. When they leave their lives at dusk, wandering the night for something to fulfill their otherwise dull existence, they chance upon an opportunity to get even better, to become a member of a cultic movement sweeping the nations. Clerics and 'good Christians' would drop dead if their pious ears caught wind of cults and demon-summoning just around their church's corner. Alice was but one in a long string of children who were made victims, in more ways than one. What made her special above much easier targets, nobody would ever know.

A soft rapping came from the small square window. Alice stirred and was relieved that she could hear something other than her heart beating. She sat up, black eyes darting for the window. A pair of blood-red, beady eyes stared back at her. Alice wasn't afraid of this creature. She had more to fear from the men who tortured her than this thing clinging to the bars of her cell. Alice had seen pictures of this animal before, in the many books she read, but she had never seen one in person. Its leathery wing easily slipped between the iron bars, then its brown body swiftly followed. It flapped quietly in her chamber, looking for a place to perch.

The bat found a broken beam hanging dangerously from the ceiling. Its feet clamped on tightly so that it would not fall. Alice watched as the bat curled its great wings around its body. It blinked and did nothing further. Curious, the girl approached, not even timid of the creature. Perhaps something told her she shouldn't have been afraid of the bat? Whatever the reason, Alice walked slowly, hoping not to scare it away. She wanted a companion to help her escape this life of misery. An odd idea for a companion, the bat was, but who or what else could she turn to?

"Hello, Mister Bat. Are you a prisoner too?"

_Such as silly question from a silly little girl._

Alice looked terrified at the door, the one _they_ always used when they wanted to abuse and torture her. The doorway was dark, not even touched by the moonlight streaming from the window on the other side of the chamber. No big, burly figure stood out from the shadows. She didn't hear echoing footsteps. She was alone, or at least she thought she was.

_Silly, yes. But you also smell divine. _The bat ran its pink tongue over its small mouth.

Alice still looked around. She looked high and low for the source of the voice, frantic in her search. She never looked at the bat as the one who was speaking. She heard disembodied laughter, a soft chuckle bouncing off the stone walls. Her ears found that the sound was coming from the bat. Alice's limbs trembled.

_That's right, little girl. It's me and your mind isn't playing tricks on you, either._

"What do you want?" Her voice sounded surprisingly controlled.

_It seems that Alice has tumbled through the rabbit's hole and doesn't know how to get back. There's a pretty nasty jabberwocky below, waiting to put its teeth into you, Alice. Just say the words and I will become your sword._

"M-my what?"

_Your sword, your shield, your hands when you cannot do something, your feet to carry you, your help, your confidant, your servant. I will be whatever you will me to be. _

"But I just want to go home!" Alice raised her voice. She clamped her pale hand over her mouth. Her eyes turned to the door and waited for the dreaded sound of feet coming towards her room.

_There is no home, even if you managed to escape. Say the words and I will take you from this place and build a new home, a sanctuary for yourself, to hide you from all the cruelties you fear most. Just say the words. _

"What words?" Alice shouldn't be talking to this beast.

_Say: I want to form a contract._

The words struck Alice instantly. Wheels turned in her head. His words suddenly made sense. A talking bat made sense. This thing was not a normal animal, it was a demon. It wanted her soul. Alice thought for a moment. Could she do it? Could she give her soul up so easily?

_Time is running out, Alice. The cards are coming. You'd better make your decision fast or else I won't even be able to help you. _

The long dreaded footsteps came marching. Each foot stabbing her in the heart over and over again as they edged closer to her door. She prayed that they'd pick someone else tonight.

_You'd better think fast, Alice._

She opened her mouth to speak, but it was far too late. _They_ came in, three of them, clad in black from their leather shoes to the cloaks over their faces. Gloved hands instantly seized her. They never saw the bat hanging from the rafter. They dragged the screaming girl away. Her begging and sobs fell to deaf ears.

Alice fought with what strength she had in her weakened limbs. Her instructor wouldn't be happy if he saw her so frail, unlike the born-fencer she was. The girl was a mere shadow of her family's strong blood. Nothing in the girl looked like the Queen's Raven, Her Royal Majesty's secret family of assassins. She was nothing more than a defenseless little girl. Her tiny legs flailed, but to no avail. The group of men dragged her through a long corridor, her screams bouncing off the walls. One of the men struck her across her face to silence her. Alice at once became quiet, though her thoughts were not.

_Mother, Father, I'm so sorry. I am a disappointment, aren't I? I'm not worthy to bear the name Blackwell. It's better if they finish me tonight and I be remembered no more by anyone. I'm a lamb to the slaughter. Why fight it? Why put up a resistance?_

_And here I thought you were different._

The demon's voice returned. Alice looked at her captors, but none of them seemed to have heard it either. They stalked ever closer to the ritual chamber.

_I'm offering you not only a chance to escape, but to get revenge. For your family. For yourself. _

Her family was dead. What good what it do to revenge them? They wouldn't come back from the dead. They were probably already laid to rest six feet below the surface already. Why she bother?

But revenge for herself. That sounded very tempting.

The chamber doors swung open and Alice was thrown into a room filled lit up by thousands of candles. Men and women stood up watching the scene with sadistic smiles. The women didn't care if she was a child. They were just as sick and depraved as the men. Each one of their hooded faces mocked her. That demon woke up something dark and blood-thirsty inside of her. Alice saw the altar table where the high priest would abuse her, yet he wasn't here yet. Even if he wasn't here, they would wait until he arrived or another would step in his place. Sour bile rose in her throat. Alice didn't want to think of what they'd be doing to her tonight. Her dark eyes darted to a smaller altar where a clean, sharp dagger sat not so innocently in the candlelight, its blade glistening like the dawn by so many flickering flames.

"I won't be a victim," Alice muttered, barely under her breath.

"What did you say?" An enraged man raised his hand to strike her. But to everyone's surprise, she grabbed his wrist before he could even touch her.

"I won't be a victim, ever again!" With a quick twist, she sprained his hand.

His two comrades went to his side, both to aid him and out of fear. The girl suddenly changed before the eyes of all who were present. Her eyes shined just a bit darker, like something demonic possessed her. She had to have been taken over by some dark power. How else was she able to nearly break a grown man's hand?

"I want a contract. Take my soul, my blood, my body. It's all yours. Just kill them all."

A steely, cold hand covered her eyes. A man's arm wrapped around her waist.

"Are you sure you want it? You will never enter the Gates of Saint Peter afterwards."

"I don't care. Just do as I say!"

"As you wish, my lady. But I must ask you not to open your eyes again until I say otherwise. I don't wish to offend your eyes any more than they already have."

"You're stalling." Her voice went frigid and cruel.

The demon couldn't help but chuckle at her impatience. "My deepest apologizes, then."

Alice did as the demon asked of her and kept her eyes shut. His arms disappeared from her. For the next several minutes she heard the screams and cries of the dying, flesh being torn apart, and blood hitting the floor and walls, possibly even the ceiling too. Then silence. Alice breathed in sharply. The smell of blood drenched the air.

"You may open them now, my lady."

Alice opened her eyes slowly and was greeted with a mountain of bodies and a man kneeling amongst them, head to toe in black. His head of short, curly brown hair shadowed his face as he bowed his head to his chest.

"You may give me a name, my lady."

"A name?" Alice asked.

"Yes," the butler raised his head, revealing his crimson colored eyes, "You may give me a name which you will call me by. Merely say it and it is done."

Alice pondered for a moment. "May I call you Dmitri?"

"If that is what you want to call me."

"Then your name is Dmitri Alexander from now," Alice watched as her new butler made his way over to her.

"There is one more thing we must take of before we take leave of this wretched place," his gloved hand brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

"What's that?" Alice asked.

"Our contract seal. It is proof of our arrangement and I'll always know where you are. Is there an issue with that, my lady?"

Alice shook her head, "No."

Dmitri lifted her off her feet and sat her down on the altar. He stared into her dark eyes. His eyes trailed down to her open throat then followed down her right arm to her wrist. He could tell that she was nervous. Her heart was fluttering wildly inside her chest like a caged bird longing to be free.

"I am not a normal demon, miss. I do not feed off of human souls. I require fresher substances to keep myself alive. Do you know what that means?"

"I'm not dumb. You want my blood. You're a vampire, I get it, and I've already told you that you can have whatever you want. Just make the contract already."

"Vampire? Is that what I am called nowadays? My lady, you will undoubtedly amuse me for some time, won't you?" Dmitri laughed. He reached for her right arm, pulling her wrist gently towards him.

"No, my lady. I am a demon, no different from the rest of my brothers and sisters who were also spawned in the deepest pits of hell. After centuries, I've grown tired of souls. It becomes wasteful. A human has only one soul and when a demon eats it, there are no second helpings. Blood is different. Keep a human alive for long enough, and I can have a buffet for many years. What are your conditions?"

"Never abandon me. Never lie to me. Never hold me back, no matter how difficult it may seem. Be everything I tell you to be and always follow my orders… And be by my side, always." Alice no longer sounded like a child, but a woman. Despite her petite, immature form, Dmitri remained astonished by the child's sudden change in character.

His lips turned up into a greedy smile, revealing his razor sharp fangs, "As you wish, my lady."

Alice felt almost no pain when Dmitri's fangs sunk into her wrist. It felt more like a sharp jolt than a stabbing pain, really. Not very different from getting a shot. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she could not. Her fate was sealed and she couldn't even if she wanted to. Dmitri held her in a tight grip, forcing to remain as still as possible on the stone altar. Her eyes were drawn to the dark red circle appearing on the surface of her skin. When Dmitri removed his mouth, his tongue lapped up any excess blood. Once he finished, Alice lifted her sore arm in the candlelight for a better look.

A red pentacle was tattooed perfectly over her veins. Only, instead of lines to form the pentagram, single bat wings formed the symbol, undoubtedly drawn from the demon's species. Dmitri got on his knee once more. He quickly removed his right glove, revealing a matching seal over the front of his hand. Placing his right hand over his heart, he bowed his head.

"I am yours to command, my lady."

"Get off your knees and get me out of here. Now," Alice commanded with a fresh tone of authority.


	2. Chapter 1

Seven Years Later

Chapter One: Her Butler, Flirtatious

"My lady, it's time to wake up," Dmitri's too cheery voice aroused poor Alice from slumber.

Alice groaned audibly, and pulled the blankets over her head. Dmitri sighed and yanked the blankets away. She was forced to sit up, the obvious dark shadows embracing her eyelids clearly shown in the morning light. Her nose scrunched at the sight of Dmitri's smiling face.

"Aren't you supposed to be nocturnal? Why are you so happy?"

Dmitri chuckled. "That doesn't apply to me, my lady. Today we have sliced oranges, French bread with handmade butter, a fruit salad, and your favorite Columbian coffee. Black just as you like it."

Alice stretched and covered her mouth as she yawned. She swung her legs over the bed, put the slippers on herself, and popped her neck.

"Schedule?"

"After noon, you have tea time for an hour with Madame Red; she will later escort you to the Phantomhive Manor for a meeting with the earl. Around six, you will find dinner prepared and later this evening, you have an invitation with the son of Lord White to the opera…" Alice's obnoxious groan interrupted him.

"Must I go? I hate people and I hate the opera. I don't care for Lord White or his son much either." For a seventeen year old, she sounded more like whiny child.

"In this society, it's impertinent that a young lady to find a suitable husband. You don't want to end up an old woman with no one but me by your side, do you? Although, I wouldn't mind remaining by your side, of course. You would, however, become a mockery."

"Fine," Alice mumbled.

"Try not to scare this one away, my lady," Dmitri added.

"I won't make any promises. Where's Anya?" Dmitri draped a cotton bathrobe over her shoulders.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Enter," Alice commanded.

A tawny, lithe woman with dark eyes and a fringed head scarf over her head. The only part of her hair that was visible was her thick bangs draped over her forehead. The head scarf was cream in color with matching long fringes with tight knots at the ends to keep them from fraying. Her ears were uncovered. Other than the head scarf, Anya wore a normal maid's dress and crisp white apron. In her strong arms, she carried a bundle of clothes, white undergarments and a black dress.

"Mister Dmitri, it iz best if you vere to leave now," Anya with her thick Romanian accent spoke.

"Of course, I was just about to do that."

Alice glared at him. She knew that he was lying. Dmitri was lecherous, though only recently was he being to show signs of perversion towards his mistress. He shut the door slowly as if he was doing so reluctantly.

Alice tossed away the bathrobe. Anya immediately began to strip her lady of her sleeping clothes, then fold them neatly at the foot of the bed. She placed the lacy garters on first, rolled up a pair of black socks for each leg and attached them to the garters with long ribbons to keep them from rolling down. Alice hopped into a pair of bloomers which reached to knees. Next came to the customized corset. It was of strong, durable muslin fabric, stiffened, and the piping was made of softened steel. Unlike other corsets, this one was made for specifically for the bust. It lifted her breasts and at the same time compressed them. The garment was not made with sleeves, but had arm holes. It ended two inches below the bust line and allowed for more movement. Anya helped Alice slip her arms through the armholes. Anya skillfully laced the ribbon through the many grommet holes in the front in a matter of seconds.

Anya slipped the black lace petticoat over Alice's head and then straightened it out before pulling the black crepe dress over next.

The bodice was square necked and long, tight sleeves. A roll of bandages was wrapped gently around her right wrist, but Anya already knew what lay beneath. The maid never said a word about it and knew never to ask. It was not her place. Anya went to fetch a pair of shoes from the closet and when she returned Alice already was seated back on her bed, her right foot extended. The maid knelt on the floor to place each shoe on her feet and lacing them tightly as possible.

"Thank you, Anya. You may go."

Anya got up quickly to her feet and curtsied. She left the door open upon leaving. Alice walked to her vanity, sitting in the backless bench. She reached for hair brush, only to have a familiar gloved hand graze against hers.

"Allow me, my lady." Dmitri stood behind her. She could see in the mirror that his mouth was drawn into a devious-looking smile.

He ran the silver brush through her hair, sometimes his fingers lingered longer. Alice was accustomed to Dmitri's treatment. He was certainly more innocent when she remained a child. Puberty certainly changed his attitude. His hands lingered sometimes on her shoulders. He looked at her with possessiveness. The other servants didn't arrive until two years before and even then he seemed apprehensive. But it couldn't be helped. A butler was not supposed to help a lady dress. As a child, it didn't matter. Now that Alice was on the brink of womanhood, it would have been unseemly for Dmitri to help her in any way. Then there were the suitors, or would-be suitors to be precise. He always said that he preferred that she get married, but he often scared away half the suitors himself. When Alice didn't scare them off with her morbid sense of humor, her dark and demanding personality, or her _unusual_ hobbies, Dmitri would say or do something to send them running. She never knew for sure he did anything, but she could see beyond his seemingly innocent face.

Dmitri pulled her hair back and twisted it into a tight bun. He left locks of hair on either side to frame her face. He forced her to look at her reflection in the mirror, his gloved hands cupping her face and keeping it still.

"Not a hair out of place. Perfection." He gently grabbed her right arm and brought her wrist to his mouth. Dmitri pressed his lips over her wrist, causing her to blush fervently.

Using her other hand, Alice gave him a good pinch. She even twisted the skin she got a hold of between the hem of his sleeve and the hem of his glove. He grinned and bore with it, keeping the composure proper to a butler. He let go of her and she returned the favor. She turned her head to him, rising off the chair.

"Go flirt with the maid, you idiot."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Her Butler, Watchful

"Alice!" Madam Red came abounding up the steps of the manor. The crimson clad lady wasted no time wrapping her arms around the younger one.

Alice grimaced slightly.

"Madame Red…it is a pleasure as always."

"As if I would miss a visit to my favorite student!" Alice thought she would pass out from Madam Red's bear hug. It felt like being suffocated by a boa constrictor.

"Madam Red, if you please follow me," Dmitri bowed from the waist.

"I rather like your butler, Alice," Madam Red practically giggled like a young schoolgirl. She released Alice from her vice grip. "He's so polite. And there's such a nice view from the back."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about him like that. It's rather disturbing," Alice fought back to keep bile from rising in her throat. She honestly didn't see the attraction in Dmitri.

The ladies followed him into the elegantly prepared parlor room, where the curtains were drawn so that the afternoon sunshine filled the room completely. Tea and an assortment of various finger foods had already been set in place. Alice sat across from the good doctor. She straightened her skirts so that it lay neatly over the chaise sofa.

"Your afternoon coffee is freshly ground Turkish blend with a hint of dark chocolate. And your tea, Madam, is an earl grey with lemon-citrus," Dmitri explained as he poured the hot beverages into the delicate teacups.

Alice took the porcelain cup from him, swirled the contents around a bit, and sipped. Madam Red smiled.

"It seems just like yesterday you were just a small child. Even then, they considered you a genius. Now, look at you. So grown up," Madam Red drank her tea.

"I have to be a genius. They wouldn't have let me study anatomy if I wasn't. Even as a member of the Blackwell family, as the Royal Serpent, the assassin for the royal family, I am a woman. They made an exception for me because of that and because the queen ordered them to. And your letter of recommendation helped as well. I'm in your debt."

Madam Red waved her hand as if to dismiss Alice's statement of gratitude. "Hush now, Her Majesty helped more than I did. Of course, they couldn't deny that you are a genius. You still have dark circles under your eyes. So studious. You never got I full night's sleep while you studied under me, did you?"

"Madam, I haven't had a decent night of sleep in seven years…"

Alice and Madam Red arrived at the Phantomhive Manor at three on the dot. Dmitri rode up front with Gaston the gardener. Upon arrival, he helped them both descend from the carriage, taking particular care for his mistress. He dismissed Gaston, who nodded and with a snap of the reins, drove away, leaving behind a cloud of dust in his wake.

The Phantomhive butler greeted them. Dmitri hesitated only slightly. He grinned, but did not bow or show any other sign of common courtesy.

"Her ladyship, Alice Austen Blackwell, and Madam Red." Dmitri announced.

"We've been expecting you. Follow me, if you please." The butler led the way into the manor.

They travelled together for a while before Madame Red separated into the billiards' room. The Phantomhive butler continued to lead them further away. Alice knew what this meeting was about. The guard dog and the serpent were finally meeting. Her Majesty held him in high regards, but Alice wanted to see him with her own eyes.

The butler opened the door to a private study. Alice braced herself to see a strong young man, only to be face with a serious-looking boy. He sat in his high backed chair, looking bored. As Alice and Dmitri entered, the boy promptly stood up. He seemed so much shorter than Alice imagined. If she was a normal girl, she probably would be resisting the urge to laugh. Instead, Alice inhaled sharply.

"Please, have a seat," the head of the Phantomhive family gestured towards an armchair in front of his desk. He sat down in his chair as Alice did.

The Phantomhive's butler started to help Alice into her chair. However, Dmitri was faster.

"Pardon me," he pushed the armchair behind Alice.

"You seem to be very protective of your mistress," Sebastian noted.

"Of course, I am." Dmitri stated proudly. "What kind of butler would I be if I allowed some stranger to lay even a finger on my precious lady? She is very wary of strange gentlemen."

"And you're the strangest one of all," Alice rolled her eyes and leaned against her arm.

"So you're the Royal Serpent…"

"And you're the Queen's Guard Dog. We have established an introduction." Alice didn't let him finish his sentence.

"You'll have to forgive my lady's impatience. She's never been known to be the kind to beat around the bush, shall we say," Dmitri apologized for her.

"Clearly." Ciel stated.


	4. Chapter 3

"I believe congratulations are in order, Miss Blackwell," Lau the secretive Chinese trader spoke enthusiastically, "World's youngest coroner. That is very impressive."

Alice didn't thank him. "I am a genius. Why wouldn't I have been able to do it?"

Lau chuckled. "I hear you're good at something else, too. We know that Ciel Phantomhive is the Queen's Watchdog, a dutiful canine that keeps an eye on the more sinister peoples of London's population. But nothing compares to the Royal Serpent, does it?"

Alice went silent for a moment. The company in the billiards room went silent. In that prolonged moment, Ciel broke it with the snap of billiards ball clacking against another. A thud followed by another resounded against the walls as the balls fell into the holes.

"You're turn, Miss Blackwell," Ciel motioned towards Alice.

Alice stood up from her seat and grabbed her pool stick. With some mental calculations, Alice set up for her shot. She paused after she readied to strike again.

"When it comes to killing, yes, there is no comparison. The watchdog is highly capable of attack and defend strategies, but only to certain extent. There's only so much that one dog can see. Snakes on the other hand are far superior when it comes to a game cat and mouse. No dog can smother its prey like a boa constrictor. It doesn't have the lethal venom of a black mamba. No dog can move as fast a cobra or a side-winder. They can't see as well in the dark. Most snakes, on the other hand, are nocturnal. The snake is cunning, silent, and has centuries of evolution on its side. If dogs were like the snake, they wouldn't be answering to masters," Alice struck.

The balls knocked each other into the holes, much to everyone's surprise. Nobody had ever been able to beat Ciel at anything, especially when it came to games.

"Oh, but you still answer to the queen, don't you, Miss Blackwell," Lau asked.

"My loyalty to her is nothing more than a perpetual contract. My father served her. My grandfather served his king, his father before him, and so on. Nothing more, nothing less," Alice plopped down back in an armchair.

"I have but one more question, if I may," Lau's arm snaked around Ran Mao's tiny waist. "Can you demonstrate your ability to skillfully assassinate an enemy?"

"If I did that, I'm afraid we'd be attending your funeral by the end of the week."

Lau shook his head. "Nothing like that, of course. More like a game."

"A game?" Alice cocked her eyebrow. "What kind of game?"

"I give you a scenario and you go through the steps you would perform in real life…"

"Lau, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Madame Red wore a worried face. Her red lips set in a deep frown.

"Non-sense. It's just for fun."

"I don't think she wants to…"

"Give me a scenario," Alice interrupted.

Lau smiled and rubbed his chin. "The East End of London. Pouring rain. You and I meet in the middle of a dark alley. I have five acupuncture needles. You have a knife and a pistol. How would you kill me?"

"What I am wearing?" Alice examined her fingernails as Lau looked confused. "If I'm wearing a bustle, it would make me move slower and it would get in the way."

"Do you dress in anything that allows for more movement?" Lau answered with his own question.

"Yes."

"Then you're wearing that, whatever it may be. Now, picture it. East End, pouring rain…"

Alice began to drift off. She could see the battle forming inside her head. Her mind ran the scenario at least ten times, each time with slightly different motives and actions. She inhaled sharply.

"First, locate weak points. In this case, when you throw your needles. You leave your torso wide open. Dodge attacks if necessary. Do not engage in close range combat. Two, aim pistol at your liver. Fire. Summary prognosis: fatal penetration to liver. Death within fifteen minutes."

"And if I didn't throw my needles right away?"

"First, fire pistol at shoulder. When in striking range, elbow block. Counter with cross to cheek. Body shot. And if you decided to nail me with a needle, another elbow block. Crack ribs three, four, and five. Cross to cheek. Discombobulate. Dazed, will try a throw. When open, block and heel kick to diaphragm. Fracture jaw entirely. Severe carotid artery. Summary prognosis: diaphragm hemorrhaging, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, bullet wound in scapula, artery severed. Death within five minutes. Less than one if I end your misery and shoot you in the head."

Lau chuckled. "And do your other hobbies include anything other than killing people?"

The sound of the clock ticking made up for the awkward silence Lau's question just created.

"That depends. Between my share in the East Trading Company, running my father's company, and studying my mother's culture, quite frankly, I don't have any."

"Your mother was an Egyptian, wasn't she? The color of your skin you obtained from your father, but I believe it's in your eyes. One can hardly tell you're only half English," Ciel went around the pool table to set up the game once more.

"Ah, an Egyptian. They had a fondness for snakes back in the days of old." Lau pointed out.

"I suppose. They had more of a fondness towards cats, unfortunately. Filthy, ungrateful little buggers," Alice mumbled.

"Better not let my butler hear that," Ciel seemingly joked, but there was a vague sense of seriousness in his tone.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Her Butler Knows she keeps her Weapons

Another gentleman joined the party in the billiards room. The Italian businessman glanced around the room, particularly at Ciel and Alice. His swift eyes panned over the girl's form. Alice realized that his eyes were lingering where they shouldn't have been. Mentally, she cursed in English and in Arabic, her mother's native language. Men like him made her sick. In the corner of her eyes, Dmitri shifted ever so slightly. He pretended to busy helping the Phantomhive butler setting up the tea and dessert cart. For a brief moment, she thought about getting revenge on him and make him squirm a little more, but then quickly changed her mind. The choices in front of her were slim pickings. Between the branch manager, Lau, and the Italian rat, Azzuro Vener, who paraded around like he was an honest man. Neither of them suited her liking. Her acting would be too forced. Dmitri would never believe it.

Azzuro gave her a grin. Alice ignored him, trying to keep the bile in her throat from rising any higher. It still left a sour taste in her mouth.

"I could take care of him for you, my lady," Dmitri nearly startled her. He quietly appeared at her side as if he sensed what was wrong with her.

Alice shook her head. "Too many witnesses." She whispered back.

"As if luring him away would be difficult. Only say the word and it is done."

"No," Alice firmly refused his tempting offer. "I don't need you to get rid of a petty rodent like him."

"Miss Blackwell, I hear you're running your father's company. How do you manage?" Azzuro asked he lined up his first shot at the pool table.

"Whatever do you mean?" Alice clenched her fists. She knew what he was going to say next. "But to be fair, I leave that management to someone else. My first and only love is science. Business is rather boring."

"That aside, you're a woman and you're the head of a trading company. Surely, you have just a little pressure on those pretty little shoulders of yours," Azzuro continued.

"No one questions how a twelve year old boy can manage a company as large as the Empire itself, but eyebrows are raised when a woman comes along and the exact same thing? Ridiculous. I spent the last seven years studying medicine, political science, language, and science and you still hold a child above me because I'm a woman?" Alice rose to her feet, eyes darting for the Italian.

Dmitri held his tongue, but drew closer to her side. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder, but all it did was make her more agitated.

"You must excuse her, sir. Her ladyship is rather sensitive about that subject." He tried to make up for Alice's change in demeanor.

"Apologize." Ciel ordered. His voice broke the tension which grew so quickly in the air and threatened the peace of the room. Everyone, except for Azzuro apparently, knew the dangers that came with insulting Alice Blackwell, especially to her face.

Azzuro turned to him, sneering. Ciel paid no mind to him. He glided the pool stick skillfully in his hands. The balls clacked in that awkward silence he had just created. It was followed by three thuds as the balls landed in the pockets.

"_Scusi_?" Azzuro looked and sounded like he had been the one insulted.

Ciel raised his head so that he looked at Azzuro in the face. He perched himself on the edge of the pool table. His small size permitted him to do so without fear of being too heavy or getting in someone's way. Lau looked on at the scene from his comfy seat on the couch. His perpetually closed eyes couldn't give away what he was feeling, but his characteristic grin gave away his obvious amusement. Ran-Mao remained undisturbed, as usual, leaning further into his chest.

"You heard me, apologize to the lady. I agree with her. It shouldn't be viewed as a side-show attraction if a woman juggles a career or two. I am well aware of her struggles and quite frankly she should be a woman to fear. More importantly, I won't have my house be the place of a lady's embarrassment. Now, apologize at once." Ciel commanded with a voice not heard of from a child.

Madame Red leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. She revealed nothing, but secretly she wished she could intervene. Alice was still her apprentice, or at least in her mind. It pained her to watch like a spectator as Alice be insulted. If she lifted a single finger, Alice would rebuke her. The girl was stubborn to the core. Helping her would only result in distrust and anger.

Azzuro sighed, but approached Alice anyway. Bowing from the waist, he muttered, "I'm sorry, Miss Blackwell for my insult."

Alice grinned mischievously and grabbed his arm. In a flash, she had him pinned to the wall, her forearm against his throat and in her free hand she came very close to clipping off the tip of his ear. No one saw what happened until it was too late. Madame Red gasped. Even Ciel seemed impressed by Alice's speed. As for the dangerously sharp knife in her hand, there wasn't a person in the room who could have even guessed where she got it from or how it appeared in her hand so quickly.

"Apology accepted." Alice released him.

Azzuro cleared his throat and edged away from her slowly.

Dmitri seized the knife from her and bowed towards Ciel.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. It seems that I forgot to check her for weapons. My lady has a rather nasty habit of concealing an assortment of them on her person."

"Must you always perform a weapons check?" Ciel asked out of genuine curiosity.

Dmitri sighed, returning to his upright form. "Unfortunately, I do, sir."

Alice folded her arms across her chest and pouted like a small child who had her doll taken away from her.

"I carry them for a good reason."

Dmitri turned to her, giving her a stern look of reprimand. He held out one of his gloved hands towards her.

"Hand over the rest, if you please, my lady." It was an order, not a request.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." Alice withdrew from him, holding her head high and stuck her nose in the air like his demand upset her.

"My lady, what kind of butler would I be if I didn't know your habits? Are you going to pretend to be the kind of _assassin _who walks about with only one measly little knife?"

Groaning, Alice plopped down into a near-by arm chair. She reached into her sleeves, producing two more knives. These two were thin unlike the first, which was bulky and double-edged. Reaching down, Alice pulled out yet another pair from her laced up boots. She reluctantly handed them all over to her butler. His hand still stretched out towards her for several seconds more.

"And the pistol you hide in your bustle." He made the universal 'give it here' sign with his free hand.

Alice reached down and underneath her skirt. All eyes seemed glued to the scene as it played out as she reached further into the bustle. After several minutes, Alice finally produced the silver engraved pistol with the safety lock still in place.

"It's truly terrifying how well you know me." She added the pistol to his small stockpile of weaponry.

Suddenly, his hand went out towards her face. Alice barely flinched as Dmitri's hand grazed along her cheek. Once again, he lingered longer than he should have. He reached behind her head and pulled something from her tight hair bun. A long metallic needle was pinched between his thumb and index finger.

"It must be truly terrifying to have someone as lowly as myself to know _everything_ about you. It's like a curse, is it not?"

Alice pinched his cheek so hard it left a dark, pink mark on his skin.

"_Go cause mischief elsewhere, Nanny,_" Alice retorted in Arabic.

Ciel chuckled. "It seems as though maturity doesn't always come with age."

"Only when your butler is like mine. It's easier to communicate with a child when you speak like a child." Alice rested her chin on her hand. Her arm was propped against the chairs. "Dmitri, see if Mr. Sebastian could show you the kitchen and brew some coffee for me."

"I could do that myself, Miss Blackwell." Sebastian offered.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not that I think that the Earl Phantomhive will try to kill me in the near or distant future, I distrust people in general. Therefore, I only let Dmitri make my coffee."

"Follow me, sir," Sebastian sighed.

Once the butler's disappeared behind the door, Ciel looked over at Alice.

"Are you that paranoid?"

"I believe everything is a trap, which is exactly how I stay alive."

* * *

I was thinking after yet another long night of restless sleep that Dmitri should have catchphrase. It's weird, but I think he should have one too. Claude has the whole 'salt into sugar…etc. and Sebastian has 'yes, my lord' and 'hell of a butler' or 'merely a butler.' But I seriously think Dmitri should have one too. What do you think and if you have any ideas, feel free to share.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

Her Butler is Easily Jealous

"I don't mean to gossip, but what is her ladyship like?" Sebastian asked in the privacy of the kitchen.

Dmitri was busy pouring the steaming dark drink into a delicate a porcelain cup. He never replied while he worked on the task at hand. Alice was meticulous about her coffee. Only the finest ingredients and he memorized each and every way she liked it. Most of the time, she drank it black with only a small amount of other spices to add flavor. When she was in a good mood, she ordered fancier coffees. But that was a rare occasion. Alice was almost never in a good mood, unless she was given work. Whether she needed to examine the bodies of recently deceased women, whose deaths seemed suspicious, or performing her duty as the Royal Assassin, Alice only came alive during these brief and few moments. Her Majesty hadn't called on her with an assignment in quite some time and because she was still young and a woman, many were reluctant to turn to her as a coroner. Her brain became stagnant with inactivity. She became bored very easily and when that happened, she drank her coffee black.

"She is…complicated. Her mood varies with each day that passes. Her genius can very easily turn into madness. But that is all that I can say. Her ladyship would be most displeased if I talked about her behind her back. She's very paranoid."

"I could see that in the billiards room."

Dmitri placed the porcelain cup on a silver tray. Above them, boisterous thumps and screams echoed through the floor.

"Dear Lord, is that the rest of your staff?" Dmitri

"I'm afraid so. Are the servants at the Blackwell Manor any better?" Sebastian sighed as he led the way back upstairs.

"There is but one member of the staff that can be…shall we say, hard to handle. She was once Alice's governess, but I'm afraid her job extends beyond the protection of my lady."

"What do you mean by that?"

Dmitri smirked. "If I were to reveal the secrets of the Blackwell family, I would have to hang myself. I would never consider myself a butler if I did such a thing."

Sebastian stopped. "But in your case, you'd easily survive an attempt at suicide wouldn't you?"

"You know my little secret, but of course, I know yours as well. So let's be honest. We're demons. We're contracted to our respective masters. However, I am different from you. Blood is the life and I intend to protect my bountiful wine-press. I won't repeat myself."

Sebastian turned to find Dmitri's eyes glowing red with jealousy. He smirked himself.

"I noticed that you carried the scent of blood on you. A vampire, I thought at first, but no. You're much too classy than one of those living-dead monsters of yore."

"You aren't the first to call me that," Dmitri walked on until he stood right beside Sebastian. He leaned in towards his ear, whispering with venom in his words. "There's a difference between you and I. You survive by eating souls, but I can achieve more strength by feeding through blood. Blood contains the life force, so why finish an entire meal in one gulp when you can savor it for years to come? I am stronger. I may be a butler, a pawn in my lady's game of chess, her right hand, and so on, but I'm afraid I'm dreadfully jealous and while it is my duty to see that she gets married, I will possess her always. I'll warn you just once, in case you had any ideas. If I sense even the slightest hint that you plan anything whatsoever towards her, I shall not hesitate."

Dmitri walked away with a sadistic smile on his face. A bell chimed along the hallway.

"It seems you have a visitor, Mr. Michaelis. You may want to fetch the door." Dmitri continued on his way towards the billiards room on his own.

* * *

"When will you carry out the extermination of the mice?" Lord Randall, the commissioner of Scotland Yard, asked angrily.

"Soon." Ciel stated plainly.

"If you ask me, St. Patrick shouldn't have chased all the snakes away from the British Isles. Of course, I jest. There were never any snakes here in the first place. Still, to send a dog to hunt down mice is rather silly." Alice removed one of her gloves and pulled out a nail file. She went to work at quietly shaping her nails.

Lord Randal couldn't help but notice the small bit of bandage peeking out of her sleeve. He never trusted the Blackwell's, and certainly not the Phantomhive's either. These two _children, _for a lack of a better word, filled him with seething rage, though he could never show it. Ciel Phantomhive's arrogance and Alice Blackwell's utter contempt for society in itself and lack of respect tip-toed on his last good nerves. Combined, he felt that he would suffocate.

"But snakes cannot always be trusted, can they, Miss Blackwell?" Lord Randall commented but never bothered to look even in her general direction.

His remark amused Alice. She chuckled lightly. She'd heard that many a time. She was used to it. Alice naturally believed that nobody trusted her. One did not carry the title of Royal Serpent and expect great prestige and honor from the upper classes.

"I suppose they can't." Alice stopped filing for a short moment.

Sebastian opened the front door, finding himself face to face with a maid in a fringed headscarf. Her features were defiantly foreign, possibly Romani, or more vulgarly known as Gypsy. Her skin had a pale olive-tone to it and what little hair that wasn't covered was dark brown and wavy. She carried in her hand a heavy-looking leather bag and a letter, sealed with a black wax stamp, in the other. The Romani maid curtsied.

"I am a maid at the Blackvell Manor," her accent probably originated from Romania. "I have somezing to give to my lady."

"Is it urgent?"

"_Da." _(Yes.)

Sebastian stepped aside and allowed her to enter. He led the way to the billiards room.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I believe someone is here to see Lady Blackwell."

The maid stepped lightly across the room and placed the letter in her mistress's hand. Alice smiled at the wax seal.

"_Si care au livrat aceasta scrisoare, _Anya?" (And who delivered this letter, Anya?)

"_Un om trimis de la regina, doamna mea." _Anya promptly answered. (A man sent from the queen, my lady.)

Alice more than gleefully ripped open the envelope, but still taking care of the letter inside. She read the contents silently, while the others watched her reaction. Lord Randall looked more steamed than before.

Once finished, she neatly folded the letter and handed it back to her maid, who tucked it into her apron's pocket.

"_Va multumim, va sunt demis. Asigurati-va ca lasati geanta cu Dmitri, va rog." _(Thank you, you are dismissed. Be sure to leave my bag with Dmitri, please.)

"What a pity," Alice sighed in English, "Now, I'm afraid that I'll miss the opera with West. And I was so looking forward to it." The sarcasm ran deep like the Nile River.

Anya curtsied again. "_Cum doresti, doamna mea._" (As you wish, my lady.) Then she left as silently as she came. She passed Dmitri on the way, but seeing that he had his hands full, she left the heavy bag at his feet.

At the sight of the bag, he tensed slightly. "Now this coffee will be going to waste." He sighed, annoyed that he went to the extra effort of making it.

"Non-sense," his lady immediately sprang from the armchair, snatching up the cup in her hands.

"Alice, where are your manners?" Madam Red scolded her from half way across the room.

Alice raised her pinky finger while she raised the cup to her lips. "Beg your pardon." She drank deeply all the while only making her former teacher, Madam Red, all the more irritated.

Alice replaced the cup on the platter, which was then handed to Sebastian. Dmitri lifted the bag with one hand.

"The game is afoot," Ciel glanced over to her.

"And upon this charge cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" Alice turned her head over her shoulder and looked at Azzuro Vener. "I do hope to see you very soon, Mister Vener."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Five:

That Butler, Her Bloody Right Hand

"_Alice," _her predecessor's voice echoed from an old memory, _"what are the four rules of being a Blackwell assassin?"_

"_Rule number one, be silent. Melt into the shadows, camouflage. Do not let the target be aware of your presence at any given moment before striking. Rule number two, be fast. Do not let the target see you coming. Rule number three, do not leave evidence of your presence. Do not let even your breath leave a trace behind."_

"_And rule number four?" _

"_Do not hesitate." _

The neighing of one of the horses brought Alice back to reality. Anya had just finished harnessing two of the Arabians to the small coach, with the help of Gaston. They hoped to move out fast. Naturally, Dmitri sat in the driver's seat. Gaston removed his cap and approached the coach wagon, wringing his hat with nervous fingers.

"Yes, Gaston?" Alice sighed, slightly annoyed.

"You will be returning, your ladyship?" Gaston was still fairly new. All of the servants knew her dirty little secret. No sense in hiding it from them. They'd eventually figure it out, why waste time keeping secrets.

Alice faked a smile. "If you have any doubts, why don't you take it up with Dmitri? Your loyalty is admirable, but you need not worry about me. This is a cross I must bear on my own, and I willing do so. Now, then, be sure to double check that my private garden is locked up nice and tight and if any specimens manage to wriggle out there, put them back before they wreak havoc on the English countryside."

"_Oui,_ your ladyship." Gaston bowed his head. He departed from the coach, head still bowed. He feared for the girl, out of loyalty he felt this way. She was a saint to him, though in reality she was an angel of death.

"Dmitri, let's get a move on. I would like to eliminate the target _before_ the sun sets this evening." Alice returned to her previous state of mind. If she worried too much about that new gardener of hers, she would no use to anyone. She'd have to let Dmitri do her job for her and that was one thing she wasn't about to let happen.

"As you wish, my lady," Dmitri, though he had his back to her, Alice was sure of it, had an inexplicable grin on his face.

_Darling Alice,_

_ As much as I trust and hope for the success of the young Earl Phantomhive, whom I must now assume you have met, time is of the essence. Currently, his methods are slow and gathering evidence against the Ferro family is time consuming and poises no instant justice. It is your sacred duty, the same that I have reluctantly placed on your shoulders, to eliminate any target I give you. Eliminate Azzuro Vener, head of the Ferro crime family. I shall give you his charges and do repeat them upon his execution. _

Perhaps meeting this Azzuro character at the Phantomhive Manor was more than coincidental. Certainly seemed unusual when Alice first read the queen's letter. The Ferro family estate appeared in distance, closing in fast. They lost time when the horses became spooked. Off the road, near the forested, high hills, something literally blew up. Alice could see the black smoke and flames rising towards the skies. She could also smell the scent of burning human flesh rise in the air. Immediately, she ordered Dmitri to quicken the horses' pace once he had them calmed down again and continue the journey. Explosion or no, nothing ever stood in the path between the serpent and its prey.

Dmitri turned off into the woods once they reached a safe distance from the estate. The horses were tied to tree branches and feed fresh apples, just keep the quiet for as long as possible. The front snaps on Alice's skirt were opened in a flourish, the thick material tossed into the carriage for safe keeping. Madam Red would scream if she saw what Alice wore when duty called.

A tight-fitting, high-collared blouse with slight puffs at the shoulder of the sleeve, knee high boots with laces tied loosely yet firmly so the ends wouldn't snag anything, long ribbed socks over a pair of lacy thigh-high stockings, which were connected to the visible garters, and shorts, all of which were black. Her hair was braided and tied up in a bun. Earrings and jewelry of any kind were removed. Leather harnesses were strapped to her legs and on her torso for pistols. Two more harnesses carried sharp knives. Around her waist, she wore a brown leather belt, which held a very special kind of dagger, one all the way from Egypt. No frills, no lace. Anything girly would create a nuisance. If anything on her person got caught in barbed wire or a thorny bush or what have you, she'd be dead.

Dmitri dressed as he always did, but strapped to his back was her favorite rifle.

"Don't get in my way unless my life depends on it, that's an order." Alice tightened the buckle securing a pistol to her calf.

"As you wish, my lady." Dmitri seemed all too greedy for bloodshed, which worried her. Deeply.


	8. Author's Note

I would like to make a formal apology to my fans. I have chapters ready to be downloaded, but alas, my computer decided to start hating me and it's currently located at a repair shop until at least tomorrow, maybe possibly longer. I would write those chapters on the family computer, but it's just not the same. I have weird habits that must be performed for my creativity to flow properly. This applies to all of my work, not just fanfiction. So again, I apologize for the lack of updates. You will have new chapters shortly. Have patience, if you please.


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Her Butler Smells Something Odd

Alice moved fast under the cover of the trees. A normal girl would never have been able to manage it. Between the branches that seemed to reach out to scratch and grab clothing and the combined weight of the weapons, a girl in her time would never have succeeded in reaching the edge of the forest. She faced the rear entrance of the Ferro estate. Dmitri landed quietly behind her.

"Do you intend to enter from the back?"

"No, I intend to jump on the roof from here, scaffold down the side of the building, and crash into one of the windows." She answered sarcastically. One of Dmitri's worst habits was commenting on her attack plans, as if she needed him for that. As stated many a time, Alice was a genius and while her talents were geared more towards anatomy and biology, nobody could out-smart her when it came to battle tactics. Battle strategy had been engrained into her since childhood. The Blackwell family was always eccentric and radical. It would be no surprise to train the girls in the art of assassination besides the boys. Besides, in her family, a weak woman was a useless woman.

"We could do that. You have me at your side, after all."

"No!" Alice replied in a loud whisper. While she could see no guards in the back, Alice knew better than to rely on sight alone. A sniper could be hiding inside the building itself. She couldn't just simply walk in. She didn't expect them to be easy.

Alice scanned the back view of the house that stood meters away. All seemed to be clear. She made her decision. If there were snipers, a simple serpentine maneuver would solve the issue of avoiding bullets. Besides, Dmitri would be following directly behind her. He'd block the oncoming assault with ease.

She raised her hand for him to see. Holding three fingers, she counted down silently until her index remained. Pointing, she signaled for her butler to follow her towards the target's estate.

_9 accounts of murder, 4 accounts of attempted murder, 27 accounts of assault and battery, 17 accounts of fraud, 19 accounts of selling women into prostitution, 10 accounts of possession of illicit drugs, and 1 account of high treason…He has it coming_, thought Alice. The big one was obviously high treason. Whether or not he was caught, the sentence was still death. Queen Victoria happened to choose a quicker method than the gallows.

The back door was unlocked, stupid move. As Alice rushed in, she glanced from side to side. There seemed to be little movement in this part of the estate. Her ears picked up the faint sound of gun fire, but it came from the front. Another intruder entered the property, but it only meant that he or she was making Alice's job that much easier. With the bodyguards and cronies distracted, it was child's play from here on out.

"Dmitri, watch my back. Don't wander off."

"As if I would leave your side in this hour of importance." He grinned.

"You've done it before," she marched at a slower pace. There was no reason to waste energy if this was going to be easy.

"When?"

"Last summer in Prague. You left me dangling from the roof of the Saint Vitus Cathedral after I finished off that thief trying to abscond with the Bohemian Crown Jewels." Alice turned her head briefly to glare at him.

"Ah, yes. Prague. A charming little city," Dmitri mused. "It was rather nice during the Thirty Year's War."

"I'm sure it was for you, you glutton. You probably got your fill of the souls dying in the fields and in the streets."

"You say glutton as if it's a bad thing," Dmitri joked.

Alice cursed in Arabic. There was movement coming towards them. Dmitri and Alice met with a wall. Voices from behind the double doors rang loud and clear even through the thick wood. She moved against the wall, her hands instinctively reaching for her guns strapped to her hips. The cold grip of the pistol couldn't chill the hot blood rushing through her veins now. This isn't to say that she enjoyed killing people. She wasn't a barbarian. Alice, though she would never admit, got a thrill from near death experiences, from fighting that is. Gripping with dear life to a cathedral spire a few dozen feet above the ground where she might have her brains splattered across the pavement if her grip didn't hold very well did not sit well with her. Dying because Dmitri failing to catch was not how she wanted to end it all.

But then, the noises stopped. Those on the other side suddenly stopped. No one yelled. No one moved. Alice didn't like silence. It usually meant someone was planning something destructive. She clicked the safety locks off on each of her pistols. The guns were held steadily in her hands as she waited. Alice controlled her breathing. Assassination was an art, not a sport. It required a cool head and steady hands. She half expected men to burst through the double doors, but alas, she was thoroughly disappointed.

When gun fire was followed by the screams and moans of the dying and the smell of gun powder filled the air, it mingled with the heavy, coppery scent of blood. It sounded and smelled like the Crusades were going in the chamber behind Alice and her butler. Neither one of them dared to move even an inch. If they opened that door, they could easily get caught up in the chaos. For once in life, Alice had no desire to enter into a battle. She couldn't tell what was going on. Guns were going off and men were falling, never to rise again. The only way she knew this was from the sounds of heavy thumping, the sounds of bodies falling to the floor. Then silence fell again. Alice moved quietly despite Dmitri's attempt to pull her back to the safety of the wall. She pressed her ear against one of the doors, and she could just faintly a man's voice. Alice couldn't presently say for certain who it was. What she could say was that she had heard it before.

"Let's move," she ordered, opening the double doors.

Chaos and blood was a normal sight for her, which would prepare Alice for the scene in front of her. They entered a large dining hall with a long table draped in white table cloth, though now it was splattered with the blood of fallen mafia members. Bodies were dispersed everywhere. Each corpse had a gun in his hand, but little good it did him. Blood, gun powder, and death were the perfumes steeping the great hall. But Dmitri could smell one thing above all the other smells. Metal. He smelled the distant odor of clean metal, not quite like the metal of weapons or the gun powder, a mixture of sulfur, charcoal, and potassium nitrate, mingling in the air. The metallic smell for some strange reason reminded him that he had yet to prepare the roast beef properly before he left.


	10. Chapter 8

"Dmitri, let's go upstairs," Alice kept her gaze on the staircase. She skipped up the steps, climbing one step up and then skipping the next. Not even bothering to check to see her butler behind her, she charged forward.

A door slammed open in the corridor. Six or seven armed men sprang out. Their faces turned white at the sight of the carnage below. Their horror turned to rage and their eyes darted for the only person in sight who had weapons on her person. Even though there was nary a drop of blood on her, seven pairs of angry eyes glared at her. Each man pointed a deadly pistol in her direction. Alice didn't flinch or try to reason with them.

"I don't think you want to do that, gentlemen," her fingers slowly went for her own pistols tucked under her arms in the shoulder holster. "I highly recommend that you flee now. I don't like to cause unneeded bloodshed. Fire at me, and you will regret it. This is the only chance I'll give you to run for your lives and live to tell your tales later."

A enraged ginger-haired man cocked his pistol, his finger remained steady on the trigger and ready to pull it.

"You have no right to talk to us like that, little _bambina_." The trigger was pulled in the blink of an eye.

Which was just about the same amount of time for Alice to pull her own guns out and dodge the speeding bullet.

Alice ducked behind a large indoor shrub. The man in question didn't appreciate her quick moves. He probably wouldn't appreciate what she had in store for him next.

With pistols firmly in her hands, Alice didn't hesitate or even bat an eyelash. She didn't need Dmitri. She didn't need anyone. She was what some people feared when a woman had a gun in her hands. She was deadly as the Egyptian asp. A gun in her hand was a death certificate. The cold triggers of the gun felt so good against her burning fingers. Her lessons, the voices of her past, the training were all she knew from that point on. Clearly they wished to die. They fired first, so the only option she had was to return fire. Within a few short seconds, Alice unleashed a bombardment of bullets.

The ginger who first fired received a bullet to the brain. His lifeless form collapsing before the eyes of his comrades. He became just another body in the heap.

While his remaining comrades gawked at his fallen form, Alice waster no time firing again. The dining chamber once again resounded with the thunder of guns and the thuds of dead bodies hitting the floor. Bullets erupted with fury and without mercy. They collided with human flesh and bone, breaking the hard skeletons and bursting through skin, muscle, and organs. Blood was a natural component in the disaster. It painted the walls and carpets crimson. Alice wasn't just fast. She was speed. Bullet casings dropped to the floor like pieces of broken glass, clicking softly against the floor like one dropping jewelry on a hard surface. Then there remained but one, the youngest of them all. He couldn't have been more than two, not even three, years older than she herself.

Alice put away her pistols in the shoulder holster. Her coal eyes glared at him. Still a young man, he was utterly inexperienced with violence. She pitied him as she approached. The gun in his hands trembled. Alice feared that his shaking would accidentally pull the trigger. She didn't want him dead. Not unless he tried something stupid.

"S-stay back," he continued holding the gun at arm's length from his torso.

Alice ignored him. Just as she pinned Ferro to the wall, the young man shared a similar fate. Their faces were so close to each other. Her arm was held tightly against his neck. The gun fell to the floor with a thud and his hands instantly went up to claw at her arm. His rose and fell rapidly as he tried desperately to breath.

"_Italino_, you want to live, don't you?"

He froze and stopped struggling.

"Do you want to live? Answer me." She ordered.

The young man was dangerously close to fainting in her grasp. He couldn't speak, so all he could do to respond was nod shortly.

Alice released him. He was so afraid and weak that he landed on his bum, staring up at her with fear.

"Go before I change my mind." She spat and turned away.

The young man didn't even bother looking for his gun. Scrambling to his feet, he sped away and sprinted down the stairs like a frightened deer.

"You can't get good henchmen these days," Alice scoffed, shaking her head.


	11. Chapter 9

She picked up the gun the quivering henchmen dropped in his haste to run away. Examining it carefully and decided to keep it for herself since it was in good condition, Alice stuffed it in her back pocket after double-checking the safety lock. Her ears picked some noise just ahead of her down the hall. Just around the corner was a yet another corridor, but this when one ended with a door, which was also slightly ajar. Alice assumed she and the Phantomhive butler had barely missed each other.

Voices echoed beyond a door just ahead of her. Alice recognized three voices belonging to Venel, Phantomhive, and Phantomhive's butler. Unfortunately, by the time she reached the room, gunshots were already fired and then somebody dropped dead. She sank to the floor quietly, crawled on her hands a knees, and pried open the already cracked door. Her eyes met the dead corpse of the butler, staring blankly at her. His clothes were shredded and blood was everywhere. At least four armed men stood over him, grinning and bearing their guns in triumph. With only pure, dumb luck on her side, they never spotted her.

Alice quickly reached out for her own guns.

"'If the enemy leaves a door open, you must rush in.' Sun Tzu." Alice whispered under her breath. She couldn't help but grin just a little.

She took careful aim, not at their torsos or heads, but at their most vulnerable weakness in her sight. The ankles. The pistols in her hands were cocked and loaded in mere seconds. The trigger was ready by the time she devised her plan. They never saw it coming.

"_Wahed,_" she counted the men she shot down, _"itnain...thalatha..._and_...arba'a."_

The door didn't even have to be fully open for Alice to be able to shoot them down so easily. Killing was in her blood, practically in her nature. Gun shots were followed the screams of her victims. Alice rose to her feet and kicked in the door, guns still in hand. Alice looked around the room. Not only did she find four men bleeding profusely, she also found Ciel Phantomhive, bound, beaten, and held hostage. To no surprise, Venel put the barrel of a handgun to the boy's hand. She tried to stifle a snicker.

"Not one word, Blackwell," Ciel glared at her.

"Oh, but it's positively hilarious. I mean, really. I constantly get nagged about getting kidnapped, but look here! You should really consider beefing up your security at home, Phantomhive," Alice grinned.

"Are you here to poke fun at me or rescue me?"

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not here to save you. That's a job for your butler," Alice fired her pistol two inches away from Venel's left ear. "And my eyes are further up north, _Signore _Venel. You'd do well not to stare at your executioner like one of your prostitutes."

The Italian didn't take her threat all that seriously.

"My executioner? You must be joking! They send a woman to kill me! England must have run out of good, strong men to send a woman like you!"

Alice fired again, this time her bullet hit his shoulder. Venel immediately released Ciel, who landed on his stomach. Through the veil of his hair, his blue eye continued to glare at her. Venel dropped his gun and held onto his bleeding shoulder. The blood trickled down his wounded arm and seeped through his fingers. His own blood stained his white suit. Sweat dripped like beads down his forehead.

"Perhaps we can come to an arrangement, _Signorina," _Venel looked up nervously. "I apologize for not taking you seriously. I see that your not a woman to underestimate."

"Your damn right, I'm not."

"Language, _hanim-ya, _is a life skill. I don't like to hear such fowl words slip out of your pretty lips," Dmitri suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Your Arabic is atrocious. Fix it." Alice slipped her guns back into the holsters strapped to her legs.

"As you wish, my lady," Dmitri glanced at Sebastian's body on the floor. "I say, good sir, do you plan on lying around on the job all day or should your young master look for another man to replace you."

Sebastian blinked and then slowly sat up. He spat up bullets into his glove, staining it with blood. Venel shook visibly.

"W-what are you people? I saw him die! No way someone could survive that!"

The groaning of the wounded men finally reached Alice's ears. She wasn't paying that much attention to them, but she didn't want to waste any more bullets on fools like these.

"Dmitri, finish them off for me." She held out her hand. "And hand me that rifle if you please."

Her butler hoped over the bodies of the men, still alive, for now. "Here you are, your ladyship. A P53 Enfield, muzzle-loaded rifle-musket."

"Year?" Alice examined the gun from the butt to the tip of the rifle.

"56, I believe. Fought in the Crimean War."

"Good year." She aimed the rifle at Venel, who looked like he was on the verge of begging for his life. "You see, _Signore _Venel, I like my guns the way I like my wine. The older the better. Is it loaded, Dmitri?"

"Would I leave such an important task undone before handing it you?"

"Remember that time in Venice?"

"Would you hurry up and shoot him!" Ciel yelled suddenly. He looked and probably felt upset that she was taking forever to shoot the Italian criminal.

Alice sighed. "Azzuro Venel, you are here by charged with nine accounts of murder, four accounts of attempted murder, twenty-seven accounts of assault and battery, seventeen accounts of fraud, nineteen accounts of selling women into prostitution, ten accounts of possession of illegal drugs, one account of high treason, and, oh yes, one account of the kidnapping, assault and battery of the Earl Phantomhive. By order of Her Majesty Victoria, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland Queen, Defender of the Faith, and Empress of India, you are hereby sentenced to death. The execution is immediate and is to be carried out by Her Majesty's Royal Serpent, the Legal Assassin, Lady Alice Austen Hasiba Blackwell, me."

Behind her, one of the wounded men managed to reach for his gun. Dmitri saw him as he cocked the pistol, aiming for Alice's head. In the blink of an eye, Dmitri was on top of him, grabbing the man's arm behind his back, painfully.

"I thought I told you finish them."

"Forgive me, my lady. It shan't happen again. How would prefer that I deal with these ruffians?" Dmitri grinned at his latest victim.

"Have your fill of throats...just don't get too messy. I want you to be presentable when we take our leave."

"As you wish, my lady." He licked his silver fangs protruding from his red gums. He smiled mischievously at the man like a starving man in front of a banquet.

Alice aimed properly and was about to pull the trigger. Behind her, she could hear Dmitri already acting like the glutton he was. Her blood was never enough, though he claimed it was his favorite. Closing her eyes, she blocked out the sound of dying man and Dmitri's obnoxious feasting. He was never a silent eater.

Her fingers pressed lightly on the trigger, but they itched with a veracious need to pull it. She resisted the urge to pull it. _Not yet, _she told herself. She opened her eyes again and found that Venel was just a shadow of his former self. Her demon butler was feasting on the blood of his goons just beyond Alice's back. Venel lost all sense of courage.

"M-monster!"

Alice pulled the trigger. Venel wasn't even given the chance to pray to God. The bullet wound up in his skull, ending his misery. His body slumped to the floor, blood painting the wall behind him. The blood on the wall smeared in a downward motion as the body fell under the pressure of Newton's inescapable law of gravity. The blood oozed in the back of his head, pooling where the body fell. Alice dropped the gun and pulled Ciel to his feet. She placed him in a near-by chair and reached for the Egyptian dagger on her belt.

"Don't be mistaken," she cut away the leather straps on his arms and ankles. "I'm not doing this because I feel any sort compassion or because I like you as a person. I came here upon the orders of Her Majesty, not to rescue you. The fact that you were taken and I arrived here is merely a coincidence." She turned her head over her shoulder. "Are you finished?"

Dmitri raised his head from the bloody throat of the newly deceased. He wiped his mouth clean with a white handkerchief. He left not even the smallest drop appear on his face, let alone his uniform. The handkerchief was tucked away in a interior pocket of his tail-coat.

"Yes, my lady." Dmitri picked up the rifle on the floor and offered her his hand in order to help Alice onto her own feet.

They, as in Alice and her butler, began to walk away from the bloody scene when Ciel spoke up and stopped them.

"Your butler...he's..."

"A demon," Alice looked over her shoulder again, this time at Ciel. "I'm very aware that he's a demon. You and I are more alike than you think."


	12. Chapter 10

Contest alert! If you can guess what Dmitri's weakness is (Sebastian's obviously cats), you get the chance to a) create an new OC character, b) create a villain, or c) have a story idea posted for this fanfiction!

Rules

Must be submitted through PM. Please don't wast review space by typing your answer there.

Be clever and creative. You might not know whether or not I have actually created a weakness for Dmitri yet.

Please submit answer by April 24, next Wednesday.

Good luck. Have fun storming the castle! And as usual, read, review, and tell others, because I don't get paid for this, so your reviews are the only thing keeping me from quitting.

* * *

Without even an alarm, Dmitri rose at exactly 5 A.M for his morning duties. He rose quickly and dawned the neatly folded uniform hanging on his dresser. A black suit and black vest and upon his lapel, he wore the distinguished Blackwell family crest pin. With all the care and honor he gave it, the pin shined brightly like a new penny. On his way out, he glanced at the mirror next to his door. Grabbing a comb, Dmitri pulled back only one side of his hair and left the other lay where it may, an asymmetrical look that accentuated the waves of his brown locks.

He exited and closed the door behind him. Marching towards the servant's quarters, he wrapped on the door of Gaston first. The door was left open. Dmitri went to fetch Anya from her slumber as well. Gaston appeared behind him, stretching and yawning.

"Miss Anya, it's time to get up."

The Gypsy only screamed something vulgar through the door. Dmitri couldn't tell what it was at first since Anya said in Romanian. She either said, 'Bugger off, demon-scum' or something else entirely that he dare not repeat.

"Mister Gaston, make sure she leaves the room within the next ten minutes." He sighed and began walking down the corridor.

"M-me?" Gaston acted completely surprised that Dmitri handed him the task of making sure Anya went to work on time.

Dmitri glanced at him over his shoulder, "Yes, you. It's very simple."

Gaston wearily glanced at the bedroom door, left closed. Anya was not a morning person. It wasn't so much about her being a lady and Gaston was obviously a gentleman. The issue at hand derived from Anya's absolute hatred of waking up in the morning. Not being a morning person was a severe understatement. If it had been any other maid working in a normal, upper-class household for another nobleman or woman, a letter of immediate dismissal would have been issued with such language spilling out of her mouth, even to a fellow domestic servant.

The gardener swallowed audibly. He would have given anything to avoid this task.

_Onward with the chores._ Dmitri smiled smugly as Anya's frustrated and aggravated screams reached even to the very end of the corridor.

He entered the kitchen and opening the door he met the red-haired matron, whose service to the household was longer than his own. Much longer.

A pair of forest green eyes glanced his way, but quickly went back to her work.

"Good morning, Miss O'Clery," Dmitri smiled.

Fiona O'Clery dropped the wooden spoon which she was using to stir a boiling pot of porridge.

"Don't you be flirting with me, ye young cad! Ye may be able to make the younger lasses swoon, but you won't be doin' anything of the sort with me!" The Scottish matron picked up her spoon again, but she turned a suspicious eye towards him.

"Right then, I'll be on my way. As you were," Dmitri turned on his heels.

The next chore was to feed Alice's _pets._ An entire chamber on the ground floor, locked tightly and secured so none of them escaped from the inside. An ominous sign painted above the door read in Latin, 'Enter if you dare.' It was there more or less to scare others away. He unlocked the black-wooden door. The cast-iron hinges almost sighed as he opened the door. The light from the hall created an eerie shadow on the floor. He reached out and turned the knob on the first gas lamp mounted on the wall.

The small flame bounced off a glass case. The animal inside hissed, followed by his brothers and sisters. Dmitri went around the chamber turning up the gas and thus lighting the many gas lamps. Shelves that nearly reached the ceiling had openings filled with glass boxes. Within these glass boxes were miniature habitats. Each container held gathered tall grass, pebble floors, vines, and sleek, scaly bodies moving in and out of the natural foliage. They each owned a label and names were scrawled loosely on parchments.

Another glass cage was aligned against the wall, filled with squirming white rodents. He walked over to it and opened the top of the case. He scooped up twelve of the poor victims. For the next several minutes, no more than twenty to be exact, he dropped one or two rats inside the much more eerie glass boxes. They tried to jump out of his hands, but fate was not with them. The furry creatures were plopped without further ado and disappeared in the foliage. The waiting predators hissed in gratitude.

Dmitri turned off the gas lamps and left the snakes to their meals.

Checked his pocket watch, having produced it from his tailcoat. It was nearly time to wake the lady of the house. That in itself was the most difficult task of the morning. Despite the impending issues about to fall into his lap, Dmitri shut the watch and replaced inside the interior pocket of his coat. Sighing, he began the trek to the third floor, to the bedroom tucked away from the rest of all the other ones. Alice preferred privacy and utter solitude to parties or any kind of social gathering. It would make sense that her own personal quarters would be located so far away from even the actual master bedroom.

He rapped on the door, but there was no noise from the inside. It remained silent. Not even a rustle of sheets or the movement of feet against the old floorboards could he hear. He knocked again, and still no answer.

Finally, he opened the door, whether or no she wanted him to. He sighed again at the sight before him. Alice was not in bed, hiding beneath the covers. She was not in the room at all. The curtains hanging from the four-poster bed canopy fluttered in the wind. Her window was drawn wide open. There was but one place she could be.


	13. Chapter 11

Descending the stairs once again, Dmitri marched down to the basement, beneath even the kitchens and servants' quarters. He moved quickly through the dim passageway which ended in at a door, over which was the word 'Laboratory' scrawled in white paint. Just beyond the door of solid wood, he could hear the sound of scuffling feet and other sounds. Approaching, he knocked, but found that the door was already cracked open.

Alice sitting up in a high-back chair in nothing but her nightclothes and a bathrobe, untied. There were no windows in the chamber. This room was so far down beneath the manor that it lay underground. A window couldn't possibly be made; not unless one wanted to look at a wall of dirt. Instead dozens of candles were lit, though most of them were down to stubs. A less-than-elegant chandelier hung above them with the newfangled electric light shining over the debris. And should anyone find this chamber and behold it, they would understand the reason why 'debris' was used be used to describe it. Tables were lined up against one another on three of the walls. Microscopes, beakers, tubes of various size and coloring, and other science equipment cluttered up the surfaces of these tables. A large desk sat in the middle of the room. Papers littered the floor. So many of these papers were there on the floor that one could scarcely see even a fragment of the floor beneath. What appeared to be a giant ball of fur was curled up against the side of the desk. Alice, per usual, hadn't notice his entrance. Her eyes were fixed on the mountain of notes before her.

Dmitri cleared his throat.

At once, Alice raised her head. Her eyes were haloed by dark circles and a tiny ring of red, no doubt from her lack of sleep. Her butler assumed that she had sequestered herself in her laboratory long before he even arose. He glanced at the furry form laying helplessly on the floor.

"I see you've managed to kill the dog...again," Dmitri half-joked. _Poor creature, but better him than me I suppose. _

She bent over the side of the desk and finally acknowledged the sleeping mammal. "Pierre." She called.

The ball of fur shot up instantly, shaking its head. The animal happened to be an overweight bulldog with fresh drool dripping from its mouth. Pierre smacked his heavy lips together and proceeded to wash himself with his tongue.

"See," Alice pointed with the pen in her hand, "he's perfectly fine."

Her attention went back to her notes. Dmitri saw the copious amount of ink on her hands. Had she really been up all night working on some kind of experiment?

"I don't envy that dog." Dmitri murmured to himself.

"What was that, Dmitri?" Alice snapped; she looked up again with a snide look on her face, like she was able to pick up his sarcasm.

Dmitri smiled and answered sweetly, "Absolutely nothing, your ladyship."

He walked carefully over the scattered papers, not completely sure of what her reaction would be if something were to happen, such as an accidental tear or if a piece of parchment were to be crumbled beneath his foot. Somehow, he managed to move around them, though as a demon such a task was even simpler than child's play. Now he stood behind her, much to her irritation. Alice was a good actress. She never even bothered looking towards him or even acknowledge his presence behind her. Her eyes were glued to the papers in front of her and her pen remain in hand in case she needed to edit something.

Dmitri looked over her shoulder to see what she was so busy working on. Written in loose, informal pen, Alice scrawled several chemicals and natural agents. For what purpose he didn't know. Chemistry was not his forte. The chemicals and agents were given specific measurements, like a recipe in a cook book. But several formulas were crossed out with angrily drawn X. Alice's brows were furrowed. She was deep in thought.

"What are you working on?"

Alice didn't respond at first.

"I couldn't fall asleep last night. I couldn't keep my eyes closed for very long. So that got me thinking about insomnia. When I started thinking about insomnia, I started thinking about ways to cure it. Chloroform isn't always going to cut it. Not to mention how is the common man supposed to get his hands on it? Then, I started thinking of medicine that someone may take in order to get a proper night of sleep. Unfortunately, nothing seems to be adding up. I've found that in extremely small amounts, belladonna can help sleep disorders, however, there's a problem."

"And what would that be?"

Alice sighed angrily as if she expected Dmitri to know this sort of thing. "Belladonna contains a potentially deadly alkaloid called atropine. The fatal dose of atropine is unknown and I'm not about to experiment on humans either. Atropine causes fever, difficulty swallowing, blurred vision,confusion, delirium and psychotic behavior for hours until the victims dies of circulatory and respiratory collapse, which is not a good thing."

"I see," Dmitri tried to sound interested in her research, but failed miserably. She could see straight through him.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, finally putting away her pen and putting aside her notes.

"Don't you have to wake up the servants or something else useful?"

"It's eight o'clock in the morning. The others have already risen and the snakes have had their breakfast, well some of them anyway. I have yet to fed the ones in your private garden."

Alice rose from her desk chair and stretched. "Run my bath, Dmitri." She ordered without a moment's hesitation.

"As you wish, my lady."

They began to make their way across the chamber to the open door. Alice had an easier time maneuvering around the papers scattered across the cold, stone floor. Obviously because she just spent the night wandering from one end of her lab to the other all night. It was hard for anyone to believe that she managed to sneak down from her bedroom without Dmitri knowing about it. This meant one of two things: he was slipping up or she was that good. Of course, she had to be good at sneaking around and being covert. That was her job. An assassin wouldn't be a very good one if they made too much noise.

Dmitri glanced at her face, weary and pale. Her eyes drooped just ever so slightly so that only Dmitri could be able to pick up on it. He stopped her and cradled her face between his gloved hands.

"You were so fresh and vibrant seven years ago. So young and beautiful. But now," he shook his head, frowning, "so many nights of working by yourself down in the bowels of your manor have left you a shadow of your old self. Look at those dark circles and lines on your face."

Alice flicked hard against the tip of his nose. "And look at all the brown on your nose."


	14. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Her Butler, The Man with the Silver Tongue

"Miss Alice!" Fiona screamed at the top of her lungs.

Alice sprung up, choking on lukewarm bath water. Wondering silently, she looked at herself, still emerged in the slightly foamy waters. She remembered climbing into the tub after shooing Dmitri away. The idiot insisted on helping her bath. Alas, she wasn't the fragile doll he claimed her to be. The day she let him wash her, and she would have to be of sound mind and body and perfectly conscious, mind you, would be the day the Thames River over-flowed with frogs and the rivers and waters of England turned red as blood. Anyway, Alice looked about herself, and then to the Scottish matron with her hands on her hips.

"How..may...I help you?" Alice asked between coughs.

She remembered climbing into the tub. She washed herself. Then, she became tired and let her eyes close briefly. Judging by the fact that she was choking on bathwater, Alice assumed she fell asleep in the tub...again. That would also explain Fiona's irate facial expression. Her ginger brows were furrowed deeply in annoyance.

"What the blue-blazes do ye think ye're doin', lass? Are ye tryin' to drown yourself? I have warned you a thousand times before, do not sleep in the middle of a bath. Just like yer father. Ye don't listen to nary a thing I tell ye! Next time I won't even bother helping you; I'll let that blood-sucking cur find your corpse himself!" Fiona fetched a towel from the near-by rack.

"I'm not done yet." The water was fully expelled from Alice's system.

"Yer going to turn into a prune. Ye are good and clean, Miss. Now get out." Fiona glared at her.

Alice sighed. There was no way she could win with this woman. No one could. Fiona had a way of doing things and if things don't go her way, she gets angry. And an angry Fiona was the last thing anyone wanted. She pulled herself up and out of the tub. Fiona was waiting for her with the towel outstretched between her hands. The towel was quickly wrapped around Alice's body. It was folded over and Alice was forced to take a seat on the cushioned chair. Fiona fetched another towel, a smaller one, and then proceeded to dry Alice's hair roughly.

Fiona was not gentle. The terry cloth of the towel was rubbed against Alice's sensitive scalp roughly. The cloth made her itch and she tried to escape from the woman.

"Hold still will ye!"

"You're being too rough." Alice complained.

An annoyed groan escaped Fiona's lips and she left the towel laying on top of Alice's head.

"Then you do it. Or get yer butler to dry yer hair. I'm not your bloody maid." And with that Fiona vanished, as she usually did when she felt like it.

Alice sat all alone, the towel still draped over her head like a useless rag. The seconds ticked by.

"Dmitri," she sighed.

He appeared, without a noise or even knocking on the bathroom door. Alice clutched the top of the towel nervously. She had never let a man see her like this, not willing anyways.

"I need you to dry my hair for me. Fiona was being too rough," she told him, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"As you wish, my lady."

All she heard were her footsteps approaching her and the increasingly higher rate of her heart beat. With her head still bent, she saw only his knee fall in front of her. The towel covered most of her vision. She couldn't see anything above his waist. His hands worked the towel gently, soothingly even. It almost felt like he was massaging her scalp after Fiona's abrasive treatment.

"What's the schedule for today?" She needed to hear something other than her own heart beating. The pounding in her chest was so loud she couldn't even hear the towel rubbing against her head.

"We have breakfast. Belgian waffles and syrup, a small fruit salad, German sausage, and Turkish coffee with a hint of cinnamon."

Alice sighed.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?"

"Nothing...absolutely nothing."

Dmitri sensed her sarcasm dripping off her tongue. He stopped what he was doing and lifted the towel away from her face. The towel remained partially on her and draped over her shoulders. Alice blushed deeply. Her pale fingers tightened on the edge of the towel covering her body.

"I know that you're lying," he pinched her cheek lightly, "it is a quality most unbecoming of you."

"I'm a snake. It's in my nature."

"No, no. I beg to differ, my lady. Lying and dishonesty is not in your nature. Your nature is far more impressive than that."

Alice's brow rose, questioningly. "Oh? And what pray tell is my nature?"

Dmitri chuckled and stared deeply into her eyes.

"May I speak freely, my lady?"

"You may." The formality was not necessary, at least on her part. She spoke freely, so all of her servants were allowed to do the same. It was would be hypocrisy otherwise, no matter what the other men and women in her same station would say.

"You are a snake. Your family crest bears a snake on its coat of arms," he lifted the Blackwell family pin on the lapel of his tailcoat. "Your nature is not of dishonesty, but of cunning. Not of lying, but lying in wait for prey. It is not of barbarous hunting and slaughter, but of the swift, silent kill. The snake crawls on her belly, but from her vantage point, she is able to see all of her enemies' movements and strike them at their ankles, where they are the least protected. You're venomous, swift, stealthy, patient in the hunt. No one dares to approach a viper like you unless they wish to fall victim to your deadly venom."

Alice's frown deepened. "Flattery will get you no where."

"I am well aware of that, my lady."

"Then why do you ramble on like that, as if you're trying to win me over?"

Dmitri cupped her face between his gloved hands. "Ah, but I have already won you, remember?"

He lifted up her right hand. His lips brushed against the contract mark that was naked for anyone to see. The white bandages lay on the sink's counter, an arm's length away from her.

"This seal," his eyes turned a deadly shade of magenta as he gazed at. His gaze made Alice shake beneath it. He seemed to bore into her very soul. But she tried not to show any outward sign of it.

"This seal marks you as mine and the blood that flows just beneath your very _vulnerable_ skin belongs solely to me. No one else can partake of it except me. Blood is so much stronger than a human's spirit. A spirit can be broken quite easily. But blood, blood, on the other hand, is not breakable. It continues to flow even when a human has give up hope. It remains with them til their dying hour. The blood is the life. I have no need to use flattery to make you mine. You already belong to me, down to the very last drop."

His sharp fangs grazed against her wrist. Alice jumped, but she didn't pull away. If she thought her heart was pounding before, it went into over drive. This demon in front of her, she hated to admit this, but he both frightened and excited her, though she would never admit it, not even to herself.

As if he read her mind, Dmitri lifted his head. Tilting it slightly, he grinned.

He asked quite smoothly, "Do I scare you, my lady?"

Alice quickly turned her head away from him. There was faint color rising in her cheeks.

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I have no reason to be afraid of you, or anyone else for that matter!"

Dmitri cupped her chin and forced Alice to turn her head again. His deep magenta eyes appeared to be nothing more than two pools of blood.

"Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, my lady. Fear is what kept your species alive. When man first walked around the savanna and he heard the rustling in the reeds, he either ran out of fear or stayed put and was promptly eaten by a hungry beast. Fear is a human's survival technique. And...it makes blood taste that much sweeter."

He pulled her wrist to his mouth. His lips danced across her skin there, lingering and then swiftly moving away again. His eyes glanced upwards, looking for her permission.

"Do it quickly, man, before I change my mind," Alice answered his silent question and then turned away.

Dmitri didn't say another word, but sank his teeth into her wrist without another moments hesitation. Her blood flowed easily into his mouth. It seemed to answer for his hunger by moving quickly through the veins. Strong, aristocratic blood and exotic spice bombarded his taste buds. The English nobility and the Egyptian blood flowing through her was so different, but they were mixed perfectly. Like a tasteful spiced wine; strong, semi-sweet, semi-bitter, exotic, flavorful. The most powerful drug and drink that ever graced his palate. If it hadn't been Alice's murmur to stop, he might have bled her dry. Dmitri removed his teeth from her wrist and lapped up the blood trickling through the fresh wounds. He healed it, the puncture wounds disappearing so no one would be the wiser. The bandages were there merely to cover the mark, not to staunch any bleeding. For that, they would need many more than what they had in stock.

He went to work re-wrapping Alice's wrist. He was gentle with her.

"What else is there today?"

"You have fencing later in the afternoon."

"She's coming?" Alice groaned.

"Well, she is, technically, your pupil. Would it not make sense for her to come here for lessons?"

"I'm not even 18 years old yet. I shouldn't have pupil!"

"That is what you get for being a genius."

"Not like I had a choice in the matter." Alice retorted bitterly.

Dmitri knew that his mistress was different from all the other women in the world. She was blessed and cursed with a genius intelligence. It was truly not her fault. It was not her fault that she knew things that normal little girls didn't know. It was no fault of her own that Alice was able to read and write and knew mathematics formulas before most boys could barely read. Naturally, her gifts were at first smothered, hidden because she was not the 'correct gender'. But when it could not be denied any longer, she was sent away, to receive a proper education according to her intelligence. Average tutors would be of no use to her. She was already smarter than they were. Alice never had a chance at a normal childhood.

"How bad can it actually be, my lady?"


	15. Chapter 13

"Move your feet, Elizabeth! You can't expect your opponent to stand still and strike you!"

Alice may have been a little harsh on the girl, but if anyone was going to teach the latter about the cruelty of the world, the former would prove to be the wisest.

Elizabeth's green eyes bubbled over with tears. She chewed anxiously on her lower lip.

"Why must you be so mean, Alice?"

The older girl sighed, annoyed and sheathed her sword. Her weapon was promptly handed to Dmitri, who had been waiting for it. He handed her a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"I think that's enough for today, Elizabeth. I shall see you next week." Alice spoke plainly.

She heard Elizabeth sheath her rapier behind her. The blonde one rushed to Alice's side with pitiful green eyes looking up at her.

"Alice, why are you so cold? Surely, surely there must be something that makes you happy. Why must you be so mean?" Elizabeth looked up to her elder. Alice was strong and brilliant, a little creepy at times, but nevertheless she was the kind of figure Elizabeth looked up to.

Elizabeth latched onto Alice's sleeve. Her small fingers clutched the fabric tightly. Alice knew that she wouldn't let go very easily, not until she asked the girl's question. The elder girl sighed again, but tried to keep how annoyed she really was to a minimum.

"Mean? My dear girl, I'm going to tell you something you're parents have yet to teach you," she looked at Elizabeth with an emotionless glance. "The world is cold and cruel. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise...is selling something."

She patted the young girl's head gently.

"I'm telling you this so you can overcome everything that this world puts in your way. Never forget that you can never draw your strength from someone else. You draw upon it yourself, draw it out as easily as you draw your sword. Am I making any sense to you?"

Elizabeth wiped her tears away with her own handkerchief. She bowed her head quickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

Alice frowned. "Please don't call me 'ma'am.' It makes me sound old. I'm only 17."

Elizabeth waited in the parlor for the carriage to be prepared again. She kicked her feet nervously. The Blackwell Manor had always given her peculiar chills whenever she visited it. Alice and her staff were nice enough, although the matron of the house, Mrs. O' Clery was a bit _odd, _to say the least. Something about the place gave her goosebumps. The manor house was supposedly haunted. Perhaps that was it.

She kicked her legs softly, patience wearing then. The young girl wanted just one thing: to leave as soon as possible to see her fiance, her beloved Ciel Phantomhive. The maid Anya seemed busy watering the various house plants around the parlor.

"Miss Anya, may I ask you a question?" The curious girl asked. Her legs settled down.

The maid turned towards her.

"Ask away, Miss. I have no secrets." Anya added with a smile.

"Why is your mistress so miserable? Is she still sad about her parents?"

The maid was silent for the longest time. She watered a couple more plants before turning to the young lady again.

"It iz most difficult to answer that. Her ladyship does not make her feelings vell known, most of the time. She iz, I believe, a person who suffered much. How deep her scars are, possibly no one vill know. But az long as she has purpose in life, I believe she vill not give up her life for anything."

Alice changed into another black dress and made her way to her office slash private library. She found it empty and drew the shades herself. With no one around, she promptly plopped down into her cushioned armchair, resting her feet on the footrest sitting next to it. Reclining back, she sighed with relief. Her eyes began to close. Sleep did not come very easily to her, not since she was ten years old. There was a recurring nightmare, almost every night, that left her screaming bloody murder and tangled up in her bed sheets. The matron of the house, Fiona, once commented that Alice screamed like a banshee, and Mrs. O' Clery knew a thing or two about banshees.

Teaching Elizabeth Midford her weekly swordsmanship was now officially checked off her list of things to do. There still remained rearranging her laboratory. She had been so close to finding a solution to her insomnia. Then, what else was there? Alice blanked out when Dmitri started rambling on about the day's schedule. He'd take care of everything anyways. She managed to sink deeper in her chair and even deeper into sleep.

She hadn't fallen asleep for more than fifteen minutes when a knock on her door disturbed her.

"What!" Alice hollered, obviously perturbed that someone dared to knock on her door when she was trying to catch up on her sleep.

Naturally, it was her loyal and ever-eager to please butler with a ridiculous grin on his face. She sneered and sat up in her chair like a 'proper young lady.' Her arms were folded across her chest.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lady, but I have something here that will make forgiveness much easier." He handed her a crisp white envelope.

Alice snatched it up immediately, instantly recognizing the parchment.

"'Dearest Alice, I regret to inform you that I am in need of your services so soon. However, it is not a target that I wish for you to hunt down. You must come to London at once. For the sake of Queen and Country, put your _genius_," She grinned broadly, taking pleasure in announcing even the single word with greater emphasis. Alice was a vain creature. She loved to hear people call her a genius or remarked on her intelligence, even if they did add 'for a girl,' now and then by mistake. "to good use. A string of prostitutes, may the Lord have mercy on their souls, have been murdered in a most gruesome manner. Please, my dearest little girl, come at once. I am in your debt. Her Royal Majesty, Queen of Britain and Ireland, etc, etc.'"

Alice was not in the mood to read off the queen's full title.

"You're right, Dmitri," Alice folded the parchment. "I do forgive you. We leave for London, post haste."

Dmitri bowed with his hand over his heart. "As you wish, my lady."


	16. Chapter 14

Chapter 14:

That Butler of Hers, Distracted

Alice made her way through the throng of people blocking her path. She gritted her teeth and tightened the grip around the handle of her leather medical bag. She didn't just dislike people, she loathed them entirely. Especially one who stood in her way, physically and otherwise.

"Excuse me, excuse me. Please clear a path. I must get through." Alice eventually had to force her way towards the crime scene. Her politeness had obviously fell to deaf ears.

She sighed with an air of agitation. Summer would be ending shortly and put an end to the hustle and bustle of the high-brow society life for another year. Normally, Alice avoided London like the plague during the social season. Its crowds, its gaudy dresses on ugly women, its dull parties. It proved all too much for the socially anemic girl who spent most of her times killing people or in her own laboratory, but the 'good' people of London shouldn't and couldn't know of the former occupation she had. To cut to the chase, she avoided London, particularly in the summer, at all costs. However, if it not been upon Her Majesty's request, she might rotting of boredom. So in a way, Alice had reason to be extremely grateful to the Queen. Perhaps, this visit would be worth it after all.

Alice made her way to the street in question. She could already feel eyes upon her, staring at her behind her back with fear, confusion, and shock. Not even 18 and she was applauded and shunned. Anti-social, non-conformatory, and she spat upon the idealized social standards and fashions of the day. And this is just what the public knew of her. Imagine what they'd say and do if they knew that the queen dispensed her across the Empire for the blood of Her Majesty's enemies?

But never mind that now, Alice had an appointment with a murdered prostitute, and that would bring about enough scandal in itself.

A broad arm stopped her in her path. A young officer, not even much older than herself, stepped between her and the alley. Just beyond the policeman's shoulder, Alice spotted the shape of human underneath a red-spattered tarp. A pale hand stuck out from beneath the sheet. Alice could smell copper, the smell of blood, was thick and still clung in the air long after the murder.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I can't let you go any further. It's a crime scene. Please, move along."

The dark-haired girl genius inhaled sharply through her nostrils. She gave a polite smile, but on the inside she was thinking of at least twenty different ways to take him down and four ways to kill him. Unfortunately, neither assaulting an officer nor murdering one in broad daylight would fix her reputation. It'd only make matters worse. There were worse things Londoners could say about her. Rumors could spread like wildfire. It wouldn't take much and no time at all for all of Britain to know that Alice Blackwell was mad as a hatter. Some already believed that to be true anyway, so it wouldn't be so difficult.

"Do you not know who I am?" Alice tried to remain as calm as possible, but the officer's ignorance proved to be most unhelpful.

The young officer was about to answer when his superior called him off.

"Let her through, Geoffrey. She's here to see the body." Lord Randall hollered from down the alley.

Reluctantly, the officer let her past. Alice found Randal and Detective Aberline standing by the corpse.

"Good morning," Alice set down her bag beside the corpse.

"Good morning, milady." Aberline replied.

Lord Randall said nothing at all, much to Alice's liking. He didn't trust her; she could tell.

"What do we have today, sirs?" Alice popped open her bag.

"A witness found the body about an hour ago. We've identified her as one of the local prostitutes, Annie Chapman, age 45. East End residency. Time of death unknown." Randall read off from a page in his notebook and then quickly closed it.

Alice paid him very little attention, except the information which was important to her. She knelt at the the head of the corpse. She lifted the sheet discreetly while blocking the crowd's view with her body. She grimaced at the bloodied face before her. Annie Chapman couldn't have been a pretty woman in life, and she certainly wasn't one in death. Peri-mortem wounds around her face and face indicated that she struggled before receiving a large slash her throat. That alone was enough to kill her. Besides the obvious wound that killed her, Alice saw something just as obvious, the evidence of tapering. There were signs that the body had been moved recently. Chapman's skirts had been pulled down and legs straightened. The blood-stained hem was not where it was supposed to be. There was no blood around the ankles, yet the hems clearly had been drawn up by the killer, either by accident or on purpose, and they were stepped and splattered with blood. Certain tests to be performed in order to see if the victim had..._customers_ recently. But why did he do that? More importantly, who rearranged the body?

Scowling, Alice lowered the sheet, stood up, and turned to face Aberline and Randall.

"Just out of curiosity, gentlemen...might I ask a question? Because it appears to me that the body was either rearranged or moved. By any chance has anyone disturbed the body?" Alice spoke with more than just a _little _hint of irritation.

Aberline answered her with a nervous tone.

"An officer fixed her skirt..for the sake of her modesty."

Alice pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I thought by now that we agreed to stop moving the bodies," her voice rose louder than it should have. The crowd behind her drew back slightly. "The integrity of the scene has been contaminated and your concerned for her _modesty?_ She is a _dead...prostitute._ Given the circumstances, I don't believe she's very concerned about her modesty!"

"Calm down, will you, Blackwell. There's no need to cause a scene." Ciel Phantomhive appeared beside her.

"What are _you_ doing here?" The vein in Randall's forehead looked like it was about to burst.

Ciel whipped out a letter, sealed with the queen's stamp. He practically waved it in front of the inspector's face.

"Apparently, you need some help. Her Majesty believes so." He added with a smirk.

Turning to Alice, he glanced at the body on the ground.

"What do you have so far?"

Alice sighed. "Not much. I've only just noticed the gaping wound across her throat; sliced carotid artery. She would have bled out in a matter of minutes. Her abdomen, from what I can see, received more severe damage. Everything below her upper torso has been shredded like a crude butcher went at her like a piece of stubborn meat."

Ciel looked around. He knew that Sebastian stood not far by his side. But where was _her _butler?

"Where is your butler, Miss Blackwell?" Ciel asked.

Alice blinked, as if she just now realized that her butler's presence was not with her.

"That idiot!" She rushed over to the end of the alley. Her head turned left and right, but Dmitri could not be found. "Where on earth did he go? I could have sworn he was right behind me!"

"It seems it's hard to find good help these days," Ciel chuckled as he turned on his heels to leave.

"Indeed, sir," Sebastian agreed with his master.


	17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

Her Butler, Lecherous

Alice set aside her tools, finishing her work at last. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Sighing, she looked pitifully at the dead prostitute on her slab.

"I do not envy you. Perhaps, it was best for you to die after all. I'm certain the lifestyle of a woman of ill-repute was not easy. Doesn't help matters that the rich and supposedly good men of this world can't stoop down from their thrones to help those in need. Maybe if someone did, you wouldn't have to sell your body and end up here of all places. Still, even as a prostitute, you didn't deserve to die like _this."_

"Talking to the dead again, Mistress?" Dmitri asked from the dark shadows.

Alice immediately went for one of the scalpels siting bloodied up in a metal tray. In one throw, she nearly managed to clip off one of his ears.

Naturally, the butler was unfazed. It had been either because he suffered the same torment before or he knew she'd miss. Then again, being a demon had its advantages.

"And just where have you been?" Alice asked with venom in her voice. "I don't recall giving you orders to vanish. In fact, you should know better than that by now."

Dmitri plucked the scalpel that had been impaled through the wall. The plaster wall was damaged by Alice's powerful throw. The scalpel managed to find its way clean through the wall, barely missing his earlobe. Had he been standing another micro-inch to the left, his mistress would have clipped it for sure. He smiled at her scowling face. He admitted, only to himself, that she looked adorable when she was angry. Which was precisely why he bothered her so from time to time, just to keep things interesting.

"Afraid of being left alone, my lady?"

His mistress picked another sharp weapon from the tray beside her. She held it threateningly in her hand.

"One more wisecrack and you will find yourself pulling out a very sharp implement from your skull, Dmitri. That's the beauty of having someone like you around. I could get away with it and you would still get back on your feet." Alice drew her weapon to her side and started to approach him. "So where did you go?"

Dmitri place the scalpel on a nearby slab and bowed deeply from his waist.

"I was gathering intelligence, my lady. My only wish is to serve you and aid wherever I am able."

"Why she died is no concern of mine. I'm only interested in the how. So, I'm ordering you to tell where you ran off to this afternoon."

"Just as I said, gathering information."

"Why?" Alice wondered, raising her eyebrow suspiciously at her butler.

"Imagine if you were able to stop Jack the Ripper on your own. Just think of the reward Her Majesty may give you if you can best her loyal Watch Dog?" Dmitri played on Alice's greatest weakness, her pride and hunger for power.

She placed her knife back where it belonged. The white sheet covering the body was pulled up so that the face of the dead woman was covered.

"Go on." Her interest was piqued.

Dmitri straightened himself. "Don't you think Her Majesty would be impressed so much by your skill and intelligence that she'd give you a grander title. You have connections, but are they enough to boost you up in this world, a world that so cruelly restrains your mobility solely because of your gender. But if the queen recognizes your abilities..."

"The whole of the British Empire would have to listen to her." Alice finished with a smile. "I like the way you think."

"You mustn't compliment me so, my lady. I merely wish to serve." He fell to one knee and bowed his head, placing his right hand over his heart. "Through sanity and insanity, from mental asylum to your secret haven. I am merely a weapon to use as you see fit. That is the Blackwell butler."

"However, you have yet to tell me where you have been for the past two hours."

Dmitri rose to his feet. "Why don't you put that brilliant mind of yours to good use and practice? Deduce what you find on my person to find out for yourself just where I was."

Alice enjoyed challenges and she supposed that it didn't hurt to practice. She stroked her chin in thought. As she gathered her information, Alice walked around him in a close circle. All while, she slowly pulled together the evidence.

"The mud on your shoes tells me you have been walking around some place with a lack of sanitation engineers. The slums, most likely, which isn't too far off. We were in the East End. There is a piece of old newspaper sticking to your heel. Parchment is roughly between two and four months old. In the corner of the paper the date still says April/May. It's not so much as a newspaper, but perhaps a seasonal periodical. Therefore, I can deduce that you were in the older part of East End. Perhaps near a factory. Your jacket is lightly dusted with coal, you were near a factory with chimneys. There are two such factories in an older district in the East End. The steel mill and Funtom, you weren't doing any corporate espionage, were you?"

"No, my lady."

"I doubt that you were...considering that you were with a woman." There was no amusement in her voice now.

"How do you figure that, my lady?" Dmitri feigned a look of innocence, but Alice wouldn't buy it. She knew him all too well.

"Your vest smells like a woman's cheap perfume and you have a lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt. Was she any good?"

"Your ladyship," Dmitri said with a tone of surprise and disapproval, "I don't believe that is a question you should be asking."

"I should. I want to know if she was worth it. If an employee of Funtom saw you philandering with a woman and they knew who you worked for, _I _would have to deal with the consequences. Do you wake up every morning thinking of ways to annoy me? And be honest." She reached for her knife again.

"Only a few times." He answered honestly.


	18. Chapter 16

"Have I come at a bad time," the familiar voice of a certain earl bounced off the walls of the morgue.

Dmitri turned to his lady and gave her a quick bow before disappearing. He knew when he was no longer needed and Alice preferred to read off hoer medical report with him standing around. Personally, he thought she was intimidated by him. Or, perhaps his mere presence threw her off? However, it was not his place as a butler to question her motives. He left silently. Passing the Phantomhive butler, he gave him a scathing warning glare. Naturally, Sebastian thought nothing of it, owning it up to his colleague's paranoia and unnatural need to posses something that did not belong to him.

Alice pulled off her rubber gloves and went over to the sink. She looked over her shoulder as she scrubbed her hands and arms up to her elbows.

"I trust you're here for the medical report?" She asked loudly over the sound of the running water.

"I would not be here otherwise. I don't like to make pointless chitchat," Ciel answered.

Alice turned off the facet and dried her hands with the apron tied around her waist.

"You really do remind me of myself, Phantomhive. You skip idle talk and cut right to the chase," she turned on her heels. "Very well then. I'll get right down to the nitty-gritty Gore Fest of details because I know you're not one to squirm easily."

Ciel eyed the young lady with suspicion and concern for himself. She had a devilish look on her face with daggers in her smile and a disturbing gleam in her eyes. Alice may have just been messing with him. It would suit her character very well.

"'Gore Fest?' It could not be that gruesome if they let _you_ of all people see it."

Alice chuckled. "That's why I'm here. Her Majesty turned to me because she couldn't keep all of the other medical examiners from vomiting at the sight of the victims. From an early age, the Blackwell children are desensitized to violence. Compared to you, I have a cast iron stomach and a mind to match."

She walked over to the slab upon which Annie Chapman waited to be taken to her eternal resting place. The sheet was lifted, but only to reveal the battered face and wounded neck.

"Liver temperature indicates that time of death occurred anywhere between four and six this morning. More likely between five thirty and six, judging by rigor mortis. She was a drinker and quite possibly had children, but I can't guarantee that they are alive. They're more likely dead or in an insane asylum."

"How do you know she had children?"

"Ah," Alice paused for dramatic effect, "that was much harder to figure out. The murderer is a very clever chap. He knows what he's doing. It was almost physically impossible to tell if she even had intercourse before she died, with the gratuitous mutilations and all."

Ciel went silent. Alice took it as a sign for her to continue.

"'Dark Annie' went wandering at night in search of a customer between the hours of five and six. Her attacker came up from behind," she picked up a scalpel and made a slicing motion across her neck, "and effectively silenced her with a jagged, forceful cut across her windpipe. Made from the left side of the neck to the middle of her throat, between the jaw and sternum. Weapon of choice: a fifteen to twenty cm narrow bladed knife. Such might be used by the common slaughter-man or..."

"Or what?" Ciel was growing impatient. He realized that she only paused in order to force him to ask questions. As much as he hated feeding the flames of her ego, he threw her the question with swallowed pride as kindle to the fire.

"Or...a surgeon."

"A doctor?" Ciel suggested.

Alice nodded.

"There are rumors that the victims are missing various organs. Are they true?"  
Alice became very solemn. She recovered the body's face again.

"She had several lacerations to the abdomen. A portion of the bladder was removed, along with the womb and uterus. The killer also took of the small intestine, throwing it over his right shoulder."

She made a pitiful face, not necessarily for the victim, but more likely for the misuse of medical knowledge.

It was hard to imagine that men of science and service to their fellow man could be dragged down into madness and depravity. Ciel turned a weary eye to Alice. Call it a hunch, or perhaps he just wanted to douse that flaming ego of hers, but he began to wonder about the Lady Blackwell. She certainly had the skill to inflict such damage, but to what ends did she have to murder prostitutes? With a demon of her own at her beck and call, London would be just a hop, skip, and a jump away from her estate.

"Don't even think it, Phantomhive." Alice's abrupt voice disturbed him in his silent ponderings.

He looked at her, who had suddenly changed her demeanor again. It looked as if she had been reading his mind and saw what was going on inside that little head of his. Her lips were pursed and the jet-colored eyes set in her skull narrowed. Her appearance was likened to a pit viper getting ready to strike. She put away the scalpel so she wouldn't be tempted to use it on a living person, even if it was Ciel Phantomhive of all people. The last thing her reputation needed was a murder charge. Or, at least an assault charge. Alice walked up to him, back straight, shoulders firm, and head held high.

"Think whatever you like of me. Half-breed, mutt, soiled goods, tramp. Call me anything you deem proper. But a mindless serial killer I am not. Assassin, yes. Murderer, yes. However, a murderer of prostitutes and harlots I most certainly am not. I would never degrade my profession by stooping so low as to taint my blades and hands with the diseased blood of dirty, common whores."

They stood across from each other. Neither one of them moving or speaking.

"Would that be your profession as Her Majesty's Serpent, the Legal Assassin, or your profession as a medical examiner?"

"Both," she answered bitterly.

Ciel nodded his head as if he accepted her word on it. His suspicions begged to differ. Still, he could not let Alice see through him again. They each had something to lose. If she was Jack the Ripper, she wasn't going to let him live for very long. She didn't seem to be the merciful type. He saw her kill Venel without so much as batting an eyelash. She was the kind of woman one wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Ciel thought of her as a cornered animal; they would surely kill someone if their backs were against a wall with no escape.

For now at least, he had to bide his time. Play it cool. Let it go.

Ciel reached for his hat and tipped it like a gracious gentleman towards his hostess.

"I believe that is all I need to know. Thank you, Lady Blackwell."

"And you are very welcome, Earl Phantomhive." She gave him a forced curtsy.

The tension could be cut with one of the scalpels resting innocently on a metal tray. The two nobles, apparent adversaries, the Watchdog and the Serpent faced each other in a stalemate, even though their chains were tethered together. A silent battle of two infamous households, fighting each other and the chains of fate that bound them.

Alice couldn't help but glare at the back of Ciel's head as he and his butler took their leave. No sooner had they left, Dmitri appeared. She untied her apron without his help and started to undo the buttons of her lab coat.

"Allow me, my lady." He stopped her from completing the task.

Once he was finished, Dmitri removed the article from her shoulders and folded it and the apron. He carried the articles as if they were the precious relics of a some beloved saint. Alice put on silky black gloves.

"Has Undertaker been informed to pick her up today?"

"Yes, my lady. He shall arrive shortly."

"Then let's get get a move on. That man gives me the willies."

"Willies, you say, Madame Snake?"

* * *

Sebastian and Ciel had their backs against the building of London's morgue. They stopped and noticed three carriages at the front of the building. One belonged to Ciel. The second was a hearse, undoubtedly owned by Undertaker, and the third clearly belonged to Alice Blackwell. He stared at the carriage for the longest time. It looked very similar to the hearse behind it. He wondered how much she and Undertaker had in common.

Ciel tore his eyes away and went to his own carriage. Lau, and his 'sister,' how he managed to say that with a straight face one may never know, sat on one side and Madam Red on the other. He sat next to her as Sebastian closed the door behind him.

"What's the verdict?" Asked Lau, as the carriage went into motion.

"The womb was cut out, most likely by a surgeon's hand, or at least by someone who has a basic knowledge of human anatomy. I'll have Sebastian look into the doctors in London for more suspects." He answered coldly. Then he turned to Madam Red. "What can you tell me about Alice Blackwell? I understand you were her mentor while she was studying the past three years?"

Madam Red's face mouth went agape. The mere suggestion made by Ciel cut into her heart deeply.

"You couldn't possibly believe that she is killing those women, do you?"

Ciel quickly looked away.

"I'm looking at every possibility. No matter who they are, I will put an end to Jack the Ripper. Class, status, associations, it doesn't matter. Besides, you must admit that she is capable of dissecting a human being. She's an assassin. She knows how to kill people and silence them quickly. Her knowledge of the female anatomy surpasses that which is expected of her. She is, until proven otherwise, a prime suspect."

"B-but how could she get from her manor to London so quickly?"

Ciel thought before answering carefully.

"I have reasons to believe that she has a mode of transportation with which she can travel quickly enough from her estate to London."

"How can you question her like that? She is a genius!" Madam Red lamented.

"But genius can quickly turn to madness, can it not Earl?" Lau said dreamily. "Insanity seems to run in her family as the Nile surely flows into the Mediterranean Sea."

"Do you know something about her family, Lau?"

Lau lazily smiled, reclining further into his seat. "Do I ever."

Imagine everyone's surprise when for once the Chinese business man actually knew what he was talking about.


	19. Chapter 17

"Y-you!" Alice tried jumping out of the way, but Undertaker was much too fast for her.

Undertaker attack-hugged her, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly like a properly laced corset. Dmitri stood unmoving. He could do nothing without her orders. His knuckles cracked at his hands. His fingers were twitching. No doubt, he was itching for a fight.

"You keep me in business, Madam Snake. You leave a nasty trail of corpses behind you…thank you so much!" His long, black fingernail poked into her cheek.

"Get off of me, you lunatic!" Alice ground her teeth.

Eventually, she was able to rid of him. She wasn't afraid of anything. To be afraid meant that she was weak and no Blackwell woman could be ever be considered weak. Weak women were a liability. No, she wasn't afraid of Undertaker. She just happened to find him extremely irritating.

"She's all yours. The police may want your second opinion. My medical report is sitting over there on the counter. Let's go Dmitri." She couldn't stand being in the same room with _him_ for much longer. Having him touch her only made her want to go home and scrub her skin until it was raw.

Undertaker opened the file, reading it silently. He chuckled behind the manila folder that masked half his face, which meant that the whole of his features were unseen. Alice and Dmitri were half way when the madman began laughing crudely and loudly.  
"What is so funny?" Alice made the mistake of turning her head over her shoulder to take a look at Undertaker.

He set aside the folder, but he continued to laugh madly. She watched him until he was finished. Wiping a tear from his eyes, Undertaker suddenly appeared in front of her again.

"How do you stand to look at _these _corpses without flinching? Girls your age would faint at even a speck of blood! What makes you so special?" His creepy grin couldn't be removed from his face. It would be easier to erase an entire country off the globe. Undertaker's voice was creepier than normal.

His cold hand seized her chin. "Or is that you revel in the scent of death? Your world is an ocean of blood. How could _you_ flinch at the sight of a corpse? You're not afraid of a corpse. No…you make corpses."

Dmitri grabbed her by the waist, twirled her around in a short waltz, and kept her at arm's length behind him. He glared at Undertaker, his demonic eyes on the verge of revealing themselves. It took the last bit of his patience and self-control not to show his true power. Unless she gave him the order.

"My lady?" He didn't look behind him. He continued to stare down Undertaker.

"I'm alright. Let's just leave already. I'm tired."

Undertaker moved out of the way and headed for the body on the slab. Alice quickly passed Dmitri, heading for the exit. Dmitri watched Undertaker remove the sheet from the body's face.

"You weren't pretty in life, but let's see if we can make you gorgeous in death!" Undertaker spoke manically to the body. Looking up, he continued to smile. "Your mistress does fine work. The bullet in the Italian's head was dead center. Her aim is impeccable."

"Her aim is _perfect_. And you do well not to do any worthy of earning a bullet either. I'd hate for a bullet to be wasted on the likes of you."

"Oh," he chuckled. "From you or your mistress."

"Me." Dmitri answered with a stiff tone.

He turned and followed his mistress.

"Be sure not to let her chain choke you, Mr. Alexander!" Undertaker shouted after him.

Alice tossed her jacket on an empty chair, which was always in supply even at her summer home. The office she had faced the busy streets of London. The curtains were drawn immediately. There was no sense in letting a hidden sniper get a clear view of her.

Yes, she was that paranoid.

She plopped down in her high-backed chair in a rather unladylike manner. Sighing, she propped her feet up on the leather footstool. The desk was used mostly for decorative purposes. She had no need to work from it. Her chair was usually turned to the side. A footstool couldn't fit beneath her desk. It simply would not give her ample room to stretch legs. She found it dreadfully uncomfortable to take the occasional naps at her chair when her legs were cramped underneath the desk.

"Coffee." A bare whisper escaped her lips.

"As you wish," Dmitri left the room, closing the door behind him.

He had taken her jacket, no doubt to put it in a more suitable place. In her solitary silence, Undertaker's words ran through her head like a broken record on a gramophone.

_You make corpses_.

Ciel's face popped into her head as well. She had seen that look on his face while he stood there and thought. If she had been a normal person, she would have come to the same idea he had. She was Alice Blackwell and she still came to the same conclusion. She had the skills. She had the _transportation. _She couldn't deny that there was an underlying, psychotic motive. A curse, _the _curse. The one that plagued her family for centuries, generation after generation. It was God's punishment for the killings they did in the name of sovereign and nation.

Madness, madness seemed to an illness no doctor could cure. They had all the money in the world, but the Blackwell family would never be able to buy a cure for this disease. It ran thick like blood. Blood of Blackwell family members down the line painted the mansion. Suicides, murder, freak accidents. Was it any wonder she was nearly the last of her kind?

The only other living member of the Blackwell family was her grandmother, who was currently locked away in a padded cell at the Broadmoor Asylum. It was one of the Blackwell's ugly secrets. However, there were so many of them, to call even a single one ugly was understatement. They were all ugly, dark, swept under the rug. To say that she was Jack the Ripper wasn't so far-fetched, considering her family's history of mental disease. Perhaps she could have been Jack the Ripper if she wanted to.

The smell of dark coffee filled her senses. She looked down below her chin, spotting a fine porcelain cup held up by a familiar gloved hand. Turning slightly, Dmitri wore a pleasant grin.

"Turkish coffee with imported dark chocolate shavings, my lady."

"Thank you." Her thoughts were still plaguing her mind. She took the coffee, sipped it, and then placed it on her desk. "You cannot lie to me, can you, Dmitri."

"No, my lady. It is against our contract."

"Let me pose a question for you, then." She looked at him, staring into his eyes. "You must answer with complete honesty."

Dmitri bowed his head and went down on one knee. "As you wish, my lady."

"Do you think..." Alice paused. The clock over on the mantle chimed the noon hour. "Do you find me mad?"

Dmitri smirked at her question as if she had said a joke.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Answer me, that's an order."

Dmitri often admired the way her exotic brows furrowed when she was serious. The eyes weren't the only thing she inherited from her mother. Each hair of her eyebrows were perfectly shaped and colored like onyx stones. Not a single imperfection. Her soft lips were pulled into a pout. She looked younger than her years. He stifled the need to laugh. She made such childish faces when she was angry or didn't get her way. The price she paid for living the childhood of a girl genius.

"No. You are eccentric. The people of the world may not see it, but you are a genius." He cupped her cheek. "If only my previous masters were more like you. I would have had more fun."

Alice swatted away his hand, trying to hide her blush.

Dmitri turned his head away. It seemed he heard something.

"Who could that be?" He asked to himself.


End file.
